Everything Burns
by LokiFenokee
Summary: Through trial and hardship, Tamatoa and Maui have rebuilt their friendship. But a pair like this cannot have lived centuries without making enemies along the way. When the past returns with a vengeance, their bonds will be tested once again. In a fragile and rapidly changing world, there is only one certainty: everything burns. A sequel to "A Better Future."
1. Sparks

Maui had a feeling that today was going to be a good day.

He and Tamatoa had finally arrived at their destination: a sprawling island with rolling hills and gentle peaks carpeted in lush green, fringed with a rugged, craggy coastline. After the many days at sea, it was a welcoming sight.

Together they hauled their canoe across the coarse black sand of a narrow beach—carefully avoiding the jagged rocks that dotted the treacherous shore. Coconut palms marched down from the low hills almost all the way down to the water, sprouting out of the dark soil in a dense thicket. It was to one of these that Maui tethered the canoe, securing it against the gusty winds that howled across the beach.

Upon checking the knots, Maui looked up to find Tamatoa. It wasn't hard, the crab was bigger than any crustacean really ought to be. He had come out of his last molt glossy and richly colored and just a shade taller than Maui himself. He had long ago outgrown his cute adolescence and matured into a lean, wiry adulthood—at least, Maui assumed it was an adulthood. Surely the already oversized crab wasn't going to get any bigger than this.

With his unnatural size, Tamatoa was impressively powerful, too. Even though the crab lacked the immense strength of a demigod, Maui couldn't deny that he'd grown into a speed and agility to equal his own. Maui wasn't complaining, though. Together they made a formidable team and were nearly unstoppable.

With his task of helping drag the boat from the water completed, Tamatoa had already wandered off and was just a short distance down the beach, reaching down to pluck something off the grainy sand. Maui barely got a glimpse of the adorable little sea turtle hatchling before wincing at the inevitable crunch as the crab popped it in his mouth.

"Gross, Tamatoa," he chided, making a face. "Don't you know that's bad luck?"

The crab turned back to look at him, a wry, sanguine smile on his face. "Only for the turtle."

Maui rolled his eyes, but laughed. It wasn't as if he—Maui, demigod of the wind and sea—was susceptible to bad luck anyway. No, the world was his oyster and not even his best friend's questionable choices in snacks would change that.

"C'mon, let's head inland," Maui said, gaze sweeping over the verdant hills beyond the shore. "And get started finding this thing. You sure it was this island?"

Tamatoa flicked an antenna, rejoining Maui and abandoning the rest of the turtle hatchlings that scampered around his legs in panic. "Of course," he answered, matter-of-factly. "The Huli stone is supposed to be hidden behind the tallest waterfall on the island, somewhere north of here."

No matter the treasure, the crab always seemed to know all the pertinent information. Maui wondered sometimes where he even picked up these stories and how he remembered them all in such exacting detail.

He was still rambling on about it, too. "—and the source of its power to revert things to their true shape is generally unknown, but some speculated that—"

Maui cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. "As long as it can change that mortal back, that's all that matters."

Tamatoa cut his eyes sharply at Maui. "And then I get to keep it," the crab insisted, taking yet another opportunity to remind Maui that he wanted this treasure for himself.

Maui frowned just a bit. "It would really be better to give it to the mortals—"

"Just because some dumb human got himself cursed into a boat rat doesn't mean we should just _give it away!_ " Tamatoa interrupted with a huff.

"Okay, okay," Maui sighed, but conceded. This one wasn't worth arguing over. Besides, they might need it again to help another human later, so perhaps it was better to hang onto it rather than leave it in a village where it might be lost over the years. "You keep it. _After_ we help that mortal."

A pleased grin spread across the crab's face. "Deal." Then his eyestalks swiveled eagerly towards the trees. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he went on, now far more brightly. "Let's go get it!"

Tamatoa's enthusiasm was contagious and Maui couldn't help but smile. He snatched his hook off the deck of the canoe and pointed it towards the hills, gesturing with his other hand to Tamatoa. "Lead the way."

* * *

The forest was pleasant and airy, alive with the sounds of birdsong and the aroma of rich, loamy earth. Tamatoa walked ahead along a well worn trail, antennae casually sweeping out before him and passively taking in the scents and sounds of it all as they crossed the island. Maui trailed just behind him, laughing at a joke they had just shared.

A flick of his antennae and Tamatoa drew up short, going still and silent in the middle of the path. Maui, barely paying attention, ran straight into him.

"Oof! What'd you stop for?"

Tamatoa swiveled his eyes to scan all around him, searching the shadows for the source of the unusual smell his antennae had picked up. "Something's coming," he hissed back to his friend.

Maui hefted his hook, going on alert.

There was a rustle in the foliage ahead, an unseen twig snapping to punctuate it. The scent was stronger now—something mammalian and human-like, but also bestial and—

Tamatoa's antennae stiffened and he brought his claws up ever so slightly, flexing them slowly open.

The foliage parted ahead of them an a figure stepped onto the path. It was a man, swarthy, tall, and muscular with flashing dark eyes. His chest was bare, but a pigskin cape was thrown over his shoulder at a rakish angle. He looked for all the world like a human, but his scent said otherwise.

He took one look at Tamatoa and his eyes went wide. "A monster!? Here!?"

The sharp, pungent scent of fear drifted off the man. Yet despite his obvious trepidation, the stranger shifted to a fighting stance. He carried no weapon, instead curling his hands into fists with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior.

A low growl built in Tamatoa's throat and he fixed the stranger with a piercing glare. Unarmed or not, Tamatoa knew a threat when he saw one. And this man—a man who was _not_ really a human—was definitely a threat.

Then Maui was butting in, sliding around him to intervene before a fight could break out. "Heeey," he interjected in a smooth drawl. Lifting a hand to his chest in a highly theatrical gesture, Maui introduced himself. "Maui, shapeshifter, demigod of the wind and sea, hero of men. You might have heard of me." He flashed a confident grin at the stranger.

Some of the tension lifted and Tamatoa rolled his eyes. He didn't lower his claws, though. "He's not human," he told Maui bluntly and with utter certainty, keeping a careful eye on the stranger. "He's a demigod." And in Tamatoa's experience, strange demigods never meant anything good.

Maui glanced back at him, arching a brow, but he didn't question it. He had long ago learned to trust Tamatoa's instincts on these matters. Instead he nodded, then gave the stranger an expectant look.

The stranger blinked in surprise, then slowly straightened from his aggressive crouch. His gaze lingered warily on Tamatoa for an excessively long moment. Finally he seemed to relax and acknowledged Maui. "A _kupua_ , actually," he replied, affecting an easy tone. "Kamapua'a, at your service."

The reply was cordial enough, but Tamatoa could practically smell the insincerity in it. He narrowed his eyes.

Maui tossed a knowing smirk back over his shoulder. "And this," he told Kamapua'a with a sweeping gesture, "is my friend, Tamatoa."

Tamatoa said nothing and gave the stranger a flat, unwelcoming look.

Kamapua'a's brow knitted skeptically. "A demigod and a monster? Friends?"

Tamatoa clicked his claws lightly in irritation. If he had a fish for every time he'd heard _this_ particular question, he'd never go hungry.

Maui waved a hand dismissively, clearly over it as well. "Yeah, crazy right?" he said with a roll of his eyes. "Look, we're in a bit of a hurry, so…" He left the phrase dangling—a not-so-subtle hint to the stranger to get lost.

Kamapua'a either wasn't smart enough to pick up on the implication or was blatantly ignoring it—both were equally as likely as far as Tamatoa was concerned. Rather than take the hint, the _kupua_ gave them an oily smile. "And where are you off too in such a hurry? Hope you're not here to court the lovely Pele, because I'm afraid that position has already been filled."

Maui looked as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out. Unable to keep it in check, the demigod burst into gales of laughter. "Tūtū Pele? The volcano goddess? _Court_ her?" He shook his head, attempting to get his snickering under control. "No way, I value my life."

Kamapua'a did not look amused.

Maui went on, though, blithely unconcerned about the _kupua's_ darkening countenance. "Better than you have tried and been turned down, you know. Some of them even survived to tell the tale. She's a fickle goddess," he said, stifling another laugh. "Besides, we're just here for the Huli stone and—"

Tamatoa's antennae jerked up sharply. As he watched, the _kupua's_ expression turned calculating. Thinking fast, Tamatoa cut in before Maui could give away any _more_ important information—using the only method he could think of on such short notice. "Nah, I don't think _any_ goddess would come within a day's sail of some _thing_ that stank like _that_ ," he said, tossing the jeer out as a hasty distraction and spearing its target with a sly smirk.

The insult hit its mark, wiping the shrewd look from the _kupua's_ face and replacing it with one of outrage, boiling up from below the surface. The message had been received loud and clear: Tamatoa knew what lurked under that thin facade of human skin.

When the fuming _kupua_ was finally able to string a few words together, he spat them at Tamatoa with a growling vehemence. "You filthy, bottom-feeding son of a—"

Kamapua'a broke off, fists clenched and body taut, as if he was seriously considering some ill-conceived run at them. Claws already up, Tamatoa snapped them in warning, the sudden, sharp clack sending birds scattering from nearby trees. Without hesitation, Maui was at his side, hook in hand.

Kamapua'a's resolve seemed to waver at the sight of their unified front. The heady tang of fear was in the air again and Tamatoa drank it in, flashing a toothy grin. "Run along now, little pua'a. Go try your luck with a goddess." It was mockery, pure and simple, and Tamatoa was unrepentant.

"Yeah, hope that doesn't _blow up_ in your face," Maui quipped, then burst into laughter at his own bad joke. "Get it? She's a _volcano_ goddess—"

Ugh. Maui's jokes were the worst.

Nevertheless, Tamatoa snickered at the terrible joke-not because it was funny, but instead to make sure that Kamapua'a knew that _he_ was the joke. There was no mirth in his eyes as they stayed fixed upon the _kupua_.

In the face of mockery and threats, Kamapua'a backed down. With a grunting snort, he attempted to downplay the whole thing. "What do _you_ know?" he sneered. "Pele will know _worth_ when she sees it."

With that Kamapua'a turned on his heel, flicking his cape over his shoulder in an obviously choreographed manner, and stalked off into the woods again.

Tamatoa and Maui's laughter followed him in retreat.

* * *

It had been remarkably easy to retrieve the Huli stone. Ridiculously easy, really. It had been unguarded—no monsters, no warriors, no booby traps, no fatal riddles—just a pristine, beautiful waterfall in the cleft of a lush, green valley. It had taken so little time and effort that the two of them had been able to laze the afternoon away, splashing in the cool, clear water that pooled at the waterfall's base and relaxing on the warm, grassy flats that surrounded it. As the day rolled on, they passed the time laughing and joking, sharing the fish that Tamatoa had caught and the coconuts that Maui had shaken down from a tree.

The shadows grew long as time went by, though, and the pleasant afternoon couldn't last forever.

Soon enough they started back, leaving the idyllic valley behind. Tamatoa admired the Huli stone as they walked. The stone was actually a piece of obsidian, rounded into a shape not unlike an _'Iwa_ bird's egg and worn smooth by the eons. Its surface was scratched and dull, but when Tamatoa held it up into the sunshine, light streamed through it and seemed to ignite it from the inside with warm, glowing rays. He smiled; it may not be terribly _shiny_ but it was still quite lovely. He kept it guardedly close, held delicately but firmly in his pincer. Yes, it would make a nice addition to his collection. He cast a sidelong glance at Maui, remembering their deal. Well, after they'd fixed that dumb cursed human from the last village, anyway.

They were crossing the twisted tongues of an old lava flow, its cracked, brittle surface crumbling under the points of Tamatoa's legs, when raised voices drifted from a stand of trees up ahead.

One of them Tamatoa recognized instantly—the arrogant swine they had encountered earlier that morning on the trail. His eyes narrowed in dislike. The other was a woman's voice, speaking with a bold, clear tone that was fierce enough to curb any sensible being from arguing with her.

Clearly, the _kupua_ they had encountered earlier was no sensible being. As they approached, Tamatoa spotted the two figures. Kamapua'a was standing at the edge of the trees, feet rooted firmly to the soft soil. The woman stood past him, a tall figure with eyes that burned with all the fires of the inner earth. She was cloaked in a fine black mantle, over which long ropy tendrils of dark hair cascaded down like the very lava flow she stood upon.

There was little doubt who this was: Pele, the fiery volcano goddess. Tamatoa had never met her for himself, but Maui had told him plenty about her. Maui had known the goddess since well before bringing him out of Lalotai all those centuries ago and had long warned of her hot temper and mercurial nature. Well, Tamatoa hadn't had any reason to tangle with her and would certainly prefer to keep it that way.

Kamapua'a, it seemed, was foolish enough to disregard such things. He was alternating between trying to ply the goddess with sweet, honeyed words and then flinging boorish epithets at her when she rejected his advances again and again. The goddess was obviously unimpressed by him, but even at a distance Tamatoa could see her patience was wearing thin. Even if her eyes, glowing an ever-brighter shade of red, didn't give it away, the rising scent of sulphur on the wind was a sure indicator that the volcano goddess' own temper was about to erupt.

"We should get out of here before he _really_ ticks her off," came a hushed whisper from beside him.

Tamatoa glanced sidelong at Maui. Leaving before the fireworks started was, of course, the reasonable thing to do. Then again…

His eyes returned to the _kupua_ who had called him a bottom-feeder. Kamapua'a was handsome by human standards, for whatever that was worth. However, everything from the haughty way he carried himself to the artfully arranged way his pigskin cape fell from his shoulder bespoke a strong element of vanity. Vanity was a familiar enough feeling; Tamatoa had no trouble recognizing it. Of course, Tamatoa's own vanity was perfectly justified-there was no denying that he was amazing. This _kupua's_ pride, however, was as thin a veneer as the human skin he inhabited.

He idly turned the Huli stone over in his pincer, thoughtful as he considered all this. He looked down at the little piece of smooth obsidian. Then a wicked smile crept onto his face.

Maui must have caught his expression, because there was an urgent whisper from his friend. "Tamatoa, no."

Tamatoa merely threw a wide grin back to him, narrowed eyes gleaming with mischief. Dismissing Maui's whispered objections with a flick of his antennae, he stalked quietly towards the trees.

The _kupua_ and the goddess were too deeply embroiled in their little chat to notice as he slid silently to the treeline. He was close now, just out of sight but near enough to hear all the dirty details.

"—told you to leave. Do not test me!"

"Playing hard to get, hmm? Women really do want to be chased, don't they?"

The goddess' eyes glowed with growing fury. "You conceited—"

Tamatoa lifted up the Huli stone, holding it vaguely in the direction of Kamapua'a. He had no idea how this thing was supposed to work, but now was as good a test run as any. Better to test it out on this jerk, rather than some ridiculous cursed human that Maui actually cared about. Hopefully the stone didn't require actual contact with the—

A ray of slanting sunlight hit the stone, lighting it from within once more. This time, however, the dull light flared bright within it, blazing a brilliant orange. A disconcerting tingle ran through Tamatoa's claw all the way to the tips of his antennae. He shuddered, trying to shake the feeling off, but nevertheless didn't take his eyes away from Kamapua'a.

The _kupua_ was in the middle of some smarmy comment when he suddenly stopped, stumbling over his words and breaking his suave act. "What the—?" he blurted, confusion writ across his face as he lost control of his form.

Dark bristles were sprouting all over his previously smooth hide, appearing in scattered, mangy tufts that gradually grew more expansive as Tamatoa watched in smug satisfaction.

"No, wait—" the shapeshifter said frantically, cool facade shattering as he fought against the stone's power. There was no stopping it, however, and his face began to contort and elongate, nose widening into a flat snout. Whatever else he was going to say was cut off, replaced by an undignified, animalistic squeal.

Barely a moment later, the chiseled human male was gone and in his place stood an enormous, grunting, snuffling hog. There it was, the _kupua's_ true shape—the beast hiding in the shape of a man. Tamatoa smiled wide.

The goddess watched it all, her face impassive. When the transformation was complete, a long, silent moment hung heavy in the air. Then she began to laugh. And laugh and laugh. When she managed to get her laughter under control, she looked down imperiously upon the squealing creature. "You believe yourself worthy of my attentions?" she said, derision practically dripping from each word. "Look at you. You're nothing but a pig, rooting in the muck!" She laughed again and it was a harsh sound, not unlike rocks clinking together.

Withering under her scorn, the swine turned tail and fled. As Kamapua'a turned, however, he caught sight of Tamatoa in the trees. A flash of recognition, followed by pure hate, lit the creature's piggish eyes. Then he was gone, vanishing into the trees and disappearing from sight.

Pele hadn't bothered to watch Kamapua'a go and had already vanished, a whiff of sulphur in the air the only indication she was ever there at all.

Tamatoa sauntered back to Maui, a wide grin plastered all across his face. He held up his little treasure, its inner light slowly fading. "The Huli stone works," he pronounced, offhand and cheekily glib.

Maui stared at him for a moment, as if at a loss for words. Then he cracked a smile and began to chuckle. Tamatoa joined him and, together, the two of them laughed all the way back to the canoe.

Soon enough the boat was prepped and ready to sail, the Huli stone safely tucked away below decks with the rest of Tamatoa's stash.

They shoved off the beach under the purple twilight skies, with Maui aboard at the rudder and Tamatoa pushing the boat off the sand until it glided into the deeper water. As he scrambled back onto the deck, Maui grinned at him. "Well, that was easy," he quipped.

Tamatoa laughed and shook the seawater off his legs. "And here you said eating that turtle was bad luck!"

Then the sails caught the wind and carried them forward, leaving the island far behind.

* * *

Maui lounged in the shade of the palms, just on the edge of the beach, enjoying a welcome break from all the day's efforts. He had finally finished loading his canoe—the canoe Moana had gifted to him when she departed to voyage with her people—just as the sun reached its zenith. He'd somehow managed to stuff it full of enough fruit and dried meat to last for ages. Weighed down, it was riding a little low in the water, but it was worth it to not rely solely on Lalotai's questionable cuisine for the next several months.

Of course, he would forfeit a fair amount of those supplies anyway. Tamatoa had made requests, after all. Even as ridiculously tiny as they were to him now, the pull of nostalgia was irresistible and the giant crab had insisted that Maui bring him coconuts. He'd also developed a fondness for sides of smoked pork, something which he had never tasted before. Maui hadn't brought fire to the world until after he and Tamatoa had stopped traveling together and there was, of course, no fire in Lalotai either. Thus, smoked meats were a new and novel treat that Maui was happy to share with his friend.

With the supplies stowed and ready to go, he was just a short nap away from sunset and his departure for the Impossible Cliff. He smiled drowsily to himself, already looking forward to the coming months. Since mending their friendship on their grueling adventure through the shadowy realm beneath Lalotai, Maui had been alternating his time between the surface and the Realm of Monsters. Strangely, his time in Lalotai was easier and more comfortable than that on the surface. The world had changed quite a bit in the thousand years he was out of commission and Maui had to admit that he felt a bit out of place. The mortals had gotten by without him for all that time and now it was almost as if they didn't need him. Humans had grown quite self-reliant and there were fewer calls for his aid these days. Surely it would all sort out soon enough, though. He merely needed some time to adjust and find his footing again.

Maui brushed those thoughts aside as nothing worth worrying about right now. Besides, tonight he would be on his way. Tamatoa had promised to take him to see the upside-down whirlpools this time too, which should prove interesting. And after six months topside, Maui was eager to see his friend again.

Rest first, however. Comfortable in the pleasant afternoon, he closed his eyes against the warm sunshine and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Unseen by the demigod as he snoozed, a pair of sharp, flinty eyes stared out from the undergrowth beyond the beach. Simmering anger resided in them, burning fiercely from the shadows.

They watched and waited.


	2. Play with Fire

The stars were nearly endless, millions of them twinkling in a velvety dark sky. They were so densely packed together that it was almost dizzying. Spilled across this tapestry of shining points of light was the splash of te Ikaroa, the Milky Way, painting a pathway across the night sky.

Lost in the glittering expanse above him, Tamatoa sighed in contentment. For more than a thousand years he'd been kept from the stars. He had longed to see them so desperately that it hurt, but had never expected to ever have the chance again. Now, thanks to the secret tunnel that Maui had left unsealed for him, he had ready access to them whenever he chose. The first few months after he'd recovered from their arduous misadventures beneath Lalotai, he and Maui had gone every single night to watch the stars wheel overhead.

Part of Tamatoa suspected that Maui was humoring him a little, but it didn't matter. After everything that had transpired, they had a lot of catching up to do. Under the starry sky, they caught up on centuries upon centuries of lost time. After all, apologies had been made and trusts rebuilt, but there was much still left to be said. Sometimes they argued, of course. There was far too much bad blood to pretend nothing had happened, but they always managed to work it out in the end.

More often, however, they just laughed and told stories the way they used to do centuries ago. It was comfortable. It was familiar. Tamatoa liked it.

For the first time in longer than he cared to admit, Tamatoa was completely happy. He had everything he could possibly want.

He had his best friend back. He was whole again with all limbs present and accounted for after finally being forced to molt. He had his comfortable home and his beautiful treasures, augmented with shiny new additions from fresh adventures with Maui throughout the Realm of Monsters.

And he could see the stars whenever he wanted.

Tamatoa couldn't remember a time in his life when he felt more at ease. Everything was perfect. It was certainly a far cry from times past. Unbidden, unpleasant memories bubbled up. Alone, half-starved and abandoned on an island that he was steadily outgrowing, with a dwindling food supply, all while going steadily mad from the isolation. A shiver ran through him. Those nightmares haunted him enough and he didn't want to think about that now. Or ever.

No, things were good now.

A glimmer of motion caught his eye, breaking him out of his reverie. Eyestalks swiveling up, he watched as a shooting star skimmed across the sky. Leaving a fiery trail in its wake, it traced a long path towards the west before vanishing into the darkness.

Maui would be coming from that direction soon enough. Tamatoa could taste the season's change on the wind and Maui had promised to return as soon as the trade winds lost their winter strength, making easterly sailing less difficult. The plan this time was for him to stay the entire summer in Lalotai. As delighted as Tamatoa was for the long visit, he couldn't help but wonder why. He had suspicions, of course. It seemed as if Maui was having a degree of trouble finding his place up there after so long away, but Tamatoa had kept these thoughts to himself. Of course, his silence on the matter was not entirely without an element of selfishness. After all, if he brought it up too soon, Maui might change his mind and shorten the trip. No, he'd wait until there was little chance of Maui bailing early, _then_ he'd spring those uncomfortable questions on the demigod.

The sky was beginning to brighten on the horizon, a red dawn creeping slowly up in the east where heavy clouds had gathered in the night. The sun was coming up, morning was upon him, and there was a warm patch of sand calling Tamatoa's name back home. Leisurely and with no great haste, he rose slowly from the rocky ground and stretched his legs. The first soft rays of sunlight were already shining on the glittering array of treasures on his back. He lingered a moment, pausing to admire the way the light played upon his gleaming hoard. A little shimmy set them all to sparkling and he smiled, pleased.

Then he turned back towards the long tunnel that would return him to Lalotai, stepping into its hazy purple glow and heading for home. Maui would be here soon and Tamatoa would be waiting for him.

* * *

"Come lie back down, Kamapua'a."

Kamapua'a ignored her. He didn't so much as cast a glance to where she was reclined on a sleeping mat. Even the sight of her, beautiful with long, dark hair draped enticingly over her naked skin in the flickering firelight, could not distract him from his fury.

"I thought he was long gone! More than a thousand years and no one has seen him!" he fumed, pacing back and forth with jerky steps.

"You hadn't heard? A girl found him and helped him restore Te Fiti's heart."

He cast a baleful glare at the woman, who looked back at him with round eyes.

"It was a few years ago now," she added.

Kamapua'a snorted fiercely, derisively. "The great _demigod of the wind and sea_ needed a mortal's help? Figures! Some _demigod_."

The woman went on, despite his building anger. "And then there's rumor that he and a monster crab saved the world from some terrible darkness after that, too."

Kamapua'a, mid pace, spun sharply on his heel and stopped to stare at her. He fought for words but only managed to blurt out a question. " _What?!_ "

She met his gaze. "A giant crab, down in Lalotai. They fought against some ancient evil together," she repeated. "That's what people are saying, anyway."

He stared at her still, jaw nearly agape in disbelief. "That—no. They _hate_ each other."

It had been his one consolation—hearing the rumor on the wind that those two idiots had suffered some monstrous falling out. When Kamapua'a had dug deeper into the story, he'd been positively tickled to discover that Maui had apparently ripped the crab's leg off over some trinket. Learning that a few months later the demigod had lost a fight with some lava demon and had completely vanished had been an added bonus. Kamapua'a was satisfied that, even if he hadn't taken revenge himself, the two were suffering adequately for their crimes against him.

But now, Maui was alive and the two had apparently _reconciled_.

His pacing resumed, now with added fervor. Fury permeated every inch of him.

"Kama, come lie down," the woman invited again.

He stopped and glared at her once more, but then went back to pacing and disregarded her. Women were so empty-headed, never understanding what was _important_. And there was little more important than his righteous outrage!

"I can't let this stand," he muttered, thinking aloud. "He's _right here_ and—" His words trailed off into a guttural growl of frustration. "No, they _both_ need to suffer. After what that crab did—"

"But the crab monster is in Lalotai."

Now she was just stating the obvious. He gave her a withering look. "Yes, and?"

"So, you'll go down there to fight it?" she asked.

Kamapua'a recoiled at the very thought. Go to Lalotai? The Realm of Monsters? And fight the monster on its own turf? He suppressed a shudder. He'd heard that the creature was truly enormous now and, while Kamapua'a was skilled at fighting—and tricking—men, he was not much of a monster-fighter. The thought of facing down something that dangerous was decidedly unappealing, downright terrifying if he really considered it.

He squared his shoulders with a snorting grunt. "No," he said, dismissive in his bluster. "That's too much effort. Lalotai is huge, I'd never find him."

"And full of all sorts of monsters," she pointed out unhelpfully.

He grumbled a vague assent, but didn't bother to respond otherwise. Of _course_ there were multitudes of monsters down there and, if he _did_ go to Lalotai, he'd probably have to fight through plenty of them in order to find the one he _wanted_ to exact vengeance upon.

"If only you could just take care of them all at once."

He snorted again, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of the very thought as he stomped back towards the fire. "Oh sure, but that's just wishful thinking."

"Maybe so," she said, "but—"

Kamapua'a frowned, ceasing his restless pace to look down at her. "But?"

"Legend says there's a secret place on this island where the magic of Lalotai extends into our world."

His frown deepened. "Extends? How so?"

"It's said that the veins of Lalotai are exposed there. A weak spot where the magic that sustains the realm is worn thin."

Kamapua'a mulled this over. If there was some outcropping of Lalotai here, maybe the fragile, precariously balanced magic could be damaged. Perhaps even destroyed. He could get revenge without even setting foot in the Realm of Monsters _and_ he could claim it as a heroic victory, too. How the ladies would swoon for Kamapua'a, the hero who rid the world of _all_ monsters. He could find it, destroy it, and—

"Of course, it can only be accessed by those born wholly human," she continued on, interrupting his thoughts.

He looked back to her, scowling as his pleasant fantasy of heroism and revenge evaporated. "Well, what good does that do me then? I was born a _kupua_ and—"

Then it hit him. His scowl melted away just as quickly as it had formed, replaced by a jubilant smile.

"But _Maui—_ Maui was born a human," he said slowly, awe at his own realization coloring his words. "The gods _made_ him a demigod."

She merely gazed up at him and Kamapua'a smirked his superiority, pleased that he made a connection she seemed ignorant of.

"It would take a demigod to touch that magic and survive," she agreed, nodding.

His smile widened, a plan already forming. He could take his revenge on both of them for humiliating him, get deemed a hero for it, and do it all without breaking a sweat. It was flawless.

" _Now_ will you come lie back down with me?"

Kamapua'a hesitated, glancing back at her. The firelight flickered in her dark eyes, beckoning to him. Empty-headed or not, she was gorgeous. She was no Pele, but he'd taken pleasure in their time together just the same. However, now that he had a plan, Kamapua'a wanted to get started right away, as Maui looked like he was ready to depart at any moment. His eyes lingered on her a moment longer. Perhaps, though, he had time to celebrate just a little first.

* * *

Maui awoke under dark skies. The stars were already out above him and a quick glance at their position spoke volumes. He had slept a bit too late, it would seem, and had missed the tide. It was only a minor setback, though. He was Maui and he could still launch a canoe, even if conditions were less than favorable.

He sat up and stretched, looking out to the dark sea to take stock of those conditions. The tide was coming in, waves driving heavily against the shore. Little flickers of blue sparked in the waves—bioluminescent algae activating in the turbulent water. Despite the rough seas waiting for him, Maui smiled.

There was a rustle in the brush just beyond the beach, a whisper of movement among the leaves. In an instant Maui was on his feet, hook in hand.

A tall man stepped out of the shadows and onto the moonlit crescent of sand. He looked vaguely familiar in the way that most humans looked vaguely familiar. After all, over a couple thousand years of seeing the same features repeated in face after face, they began to blur together. Still, there was something that itched at the back of his mind—

"Maui?" the man asked, his voice just shy of being truly tentative as he approached. "Demigod of the wind and sea?"

Well, it was always nice to be recognized! Maui relaxed, planting his hook in the sand and leaning his weight against it. "That's me."

"Hero of men?" the stranger went on.

"That too. And women. All, really."

"Oh, thank the gods," the man said, his expression twisting into one of great relief. "We need your help!"

Maui's lip turned down in a slight, thoughtful frown. He knew there were a handful of mortals living on this island, but they seemed to have everything well in hand. Once again, some deep part of him had been secretly disappointed and that feeling of uselessness began to creep back in. In the week he'd spent making repairs to the canoe and gathering supplies, not a single mortal had approached him for assistance. After a thousand years without him, it was abundantly clear that the humans had grown into their own self-sufficiency and had little practical need for a demigod. Maui would have liked to think it didn't bother him, but it did.

Dragged down by such thoughts, he almost missed the fleeting glint in the stranger's eyes, gleaming in the pale moonlight with a shrewdness that seemed at odds with his benign demeanor. Then the look was gone and Maui was left questioning if he had ever really seen it, or if it had merely been a trick of the faded light.

"There's a great evil on this island," the man continued. "The others fear to even speak of it, but I told them that _the great Maui_ was here and could save us from it."

Maui shoved his brooding thoughts away, perked up by the praise. Maybe they _did_ still need his help, after all. "What kind of evil?"

"The worst kind!" the man replied without hesitation. "Come with me, I'll show you."

Maui hesitated. He glanced back towards the sea, where the waves still flickered with soft light under the starry sky. It was already past time to leave for Lalotai. The tide was coming in heavy now, pushing higher up the beach. Despite that, he should really be going. He'd made a promise to Tamatoa and intended to keep it. Too many promises had been broken in the past to let that happen again.

The man's voice cut into his thoughts with an insistent plea. "Maui, please help us. We _need_ your help."

Maui looked back to him, took in the plaintive look on his shadowed face. He was torn. This was the first human in quite some time to need his aid. And yet he knew he should stick to his plan and launch the canoe, sail for Lalotai, and meet up with Tamatoa as discussed.

Then again, he'd missed the outgoing tide.

It would be morning before the tide turned again. That gave him some time. Surely he could go take care of this one little thing—real quick!—and be back by the time more favorable conditions rolled around. He'd only lose half a day, at most, and could perhaps make up that time at sea with a good wind. Tamatoa would underst—

Maui stopped himself from even thinking that old line again.

Things weren't like that now, though. This wasn't like before. He wasn't going to make that mistake again, no. He'd just go take care of this _one_ little thing and, one way or the other, be on the sea when the tide went out in the morning.

Resolved, he turned back to the stranger. "Okay. Let's do this."

The man smiled. "This way.

* * *

The forest was dark, lit only by the palest dappled moonlight that fell upon the tangled undergrowth along the path. The lithe stranger moved through it with a swiftness and familiarity, however—so swiftly that Maui nearly had trouble keeping up through the dense jungle.

To slow his guide down, Maui tried to get him talking. Besides, there was something still bothering him about this strange man. He wished Tamatoa was here; the giant crab had an uncanny, and sometimes unsettling, intuition about people. He could always be relied on to pinpoint what someone was about. In his friend's absence, however, Maui would have to figure it out on his own. He'd just have to get the guy talking and work it out himself.

"So, what is this thing anyway?" he called ahead to the man.

The man slowed his pace, but only for the moment it took to turn and look behind him. "A great evil!"

"Yes, but what _is_ it?" Maui pressed, shoving his way through the tangled vines that his more slender guide slipped deftly through.

The man glanced over his shoulder again. "Nobody knows!"

"Well, how long has it been here?" Maui asked, annoyed.

"Oh, forever," the man replied without hesitation, ducking under a branch and still keeping several paces ahead.

Well, that was terribly unhelpful. "Can't you—oof!" Maui stumbled over a root in the dark, but quickly regained his balance. "—can't you tell me anything?"

"Of course!"

Maui left an expectant silence between them, but it went unanswered as they hurried through the forest. When no further explanations were forthcoming, Maui prompted in exasperation, " _Well?_ "

"We're almost there," the man supplied.

Maui let out a groan of frustration.

"Shh," the man admonished, pausing up ahead and finally slowing his pace. "We must approach quietly."

Maui tried not to let his annoyance show. As glad as he was to finally be needed again, this was not exactly how he pictured it. Something was off about this guy and Maui was beginning to have doubts.

Then the forest drew back, thinning out around them into an open space. The sounds of night birds and croaking frogs faded away, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake. Maui knew without needing to see the man beckoning to him emphatically: this was the place.

It stood in the center of the wide clearing, unmistakably their goal. An ancient pillar of stone sprouted up from the earth, illuminated by the moonlight that flooded the open area. It stood perhaps a few hand spans taller than Maui himself, ruggedly cut from old grey stone. Once the monolith may have been jagged and harsh, but eons of time had worn it smooth and softened its outline to gentle curves—leaving only a faint hint of its earlier shape. Spidering up from its base, thin veins of blue crystal traced up from the dirt like many-forked lightning. Like lightning, they pulsed with strange blue light. There was a slow, steady rising and falling to that light, pulsing to an intense brightness then fading to a muted glow in a rhythm not unlike a heartbeat.

Maui stared, fascinated. He'd never seen anything quite like this before. Tamatoa would have loved it.

It was that thought which brought him sharply back to his task. He needed to get this handled so he could get on his way.

He stepped closer, pushing a palm frond aside. It was then that his eye fell on a curve of white, thin and smooth, on the ground. It was a _bone_. His eyes widened as he saw more and more of the same. There were bones scattered all around the pillar— _human_ bones. Some were bleached white, brittle and broken, but others were more recent, with bits of tattered, rotting flesh clinging to them.

Maui's eyes hardened and the last of his doubts were swept away. There _was_ something foul at work here. A faint shimmer hung in the air surrounding the carpet of bones, almost unnoticeable in the night. Maui lifted his fishhook and used it to poke at the glimmering haze.

Nothing happened.

He glanced at the stranger, who was hanging back in the shadows of the forest. The man waved his hand encouragingly, urging Maui forward.

"It's the glowing stones. You have to destroy them to save our island," he whispered, an anxious note in his lowered voice.

Maui nodded, then stepped into the clearing. He passed through the shimmering air easily and without issue. Ancient bones crumbled to dust under his feet as he stepped closer to the stones. Other, newer bones merely cracked and crunched underfoot. Maui grimaced, kicking them away with an angry vehemence. He couldn't save those poor souls, but no one else would be hurt by this thing.

Behind him, he heard the man's harsh whisper again. "Use your hook!"

Maui suppressed a snort. What did this guy think he was going to do? "Thank you, mister obvious," he muttered.

He raised his hook, lining it up with the thickest vein of the pulsing crystalline stone. One quick stroke, then he could get out of here and on his way back to Tamatoa.

"Actually, the name's Kamapua'a."

Maui was already bringing his hook down when the name registered—a name he recognized. A name that would _not_ be innocently asking for his help. His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, even as his arms were already in motion. He'd been tricked. Too late to stop, the hook struck the stone with all his strength behind it.

A powerful shockwave of magic rushed out, stirring up a flurry of dust and rock chips that momentarily clouded Maui's vision. It was a blow strong enough to split most stones clean in half, yet when the dust cleared the monolith remained standing and unmarred. For a moment, Maui held his breath and it seemed as if everything was fine.

A brittle, cracking sound broke the heavy silence of the clearing. He watched as the lines of blue crystal began to slowly splinter, shattering within the matrix of stone that surrounded it. The glowing pulse of pale aqua light dimmed, then suddenly flared again at the point where his hook had struck—not a cool blue now, but a burning red that flamed up so brightly that Maui had to shield his eyes. Then the fiery light streaked downward, chasing the lines of stone into the earth.

The ground trembled beneath Maui for a moment, then the light faded away and all was still and silent once more. The veins of crystal, previously alive with light, were now dark, grey and empty. Maui shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily as his night vision slowly returned. He wasn't sure what he'd done, but he had a bad feeling about this.

Maui turned to look for the other man—the _kupua_ who had tricked him—but Kamapua'a was gone.


	3. Shattered

Tamatoa dreamed.

He was warm and comfortable, basking on a beach in the bright sunshine. Well-fed and content, he dug his legs deep into the sand and watched the radiant sunlight sparkle on the ocean. The tide was coming in, crystalline water lapping gently at him as it rose. Enormous silvery fish flitted within easy reach of his pincers, an abundance of food there at his clawtips, easily available with no effort needed to catch them at all.

The water kept rising and the fish scattered into the murk. Cold water swirled around him and suddenly he was trapped. The sun's rays were snuffed out as the icy seawater crept higher and higher until it crested over his head. Panicked, he dug furiously into the sand, desperate to escape before he could drown in the rising water.

The sand gave way beneath him, dropping away and flushing him out of the water and into pitch darkness. He tumbled for what seemed like an eternity until finally sliding to a halt in a vast emptiness. From somewhere nearby came a wild, brassy howl and the blackness around him was slashed by tongues of white lightning, clawing at him with forked fingers that burned straight through his shell.

Then the world began to shake and split open. Jagged rocks tumbled from above, cascading down upon him. He was trapped again as everything fell apart.

With a start Tamatoa opened his eyes, wrenching himself free of the nightmare—not the first he'd had of late, either.

But even awake, the shaking did not stop. Heavy debris was still raining down, crashing into him and scraping treasures from his shell. Disoriented and wide-eyed, he frantically searched around himself, trying to make sense of what was happening. The ground was heaving like a storm-tossed sea and his home itself was tearing apart, chunks of shell and stone ripping away and falling all around.

Thinking fast, he made a break for the exit. He wasn't quick enough, though, and the entire hidden door collapsed before he could get there. Rubble blocked his way out, jagged shards cutting him off. The entire lair began to sway violently and the air was filled with sharp, popping cracks as it disintegrated. Trapped as the ground continued to buck and lurch under him, he did the only thing he could: he ducked low and threw his claws up to protect his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and waited for everything to end.

There was another awful crashing noise and then the world was swallowed by darkness and confusion.

* * *

Maui took a step back, then another. He backed slowly away from the stone pillar, now dark in the pale moonlight. The night sounds began to filter back in, but they seemed distant and tentative. He looked down at his hook, undamaged by the blow, then back at the stone obelisk. The monolith had not cracked, but the crystalline veins spidering across it were shattered within the surrounding matrix. Where it was once pulsing with light, it was now dull and still.

Maui felt a wave of uneasiness rise up as he stared at those lifeless lines in the ancient stone. What had those crystals been a part of? He had been so eager to actually be of use to the humans again—and yet he'd been in such a hurry to get on his way, too—that he hadn't been paying enough attention. He hadn't asked the questions he should have. And now he had _no idea_ what he had _actually_ done.

Maui's eyes narrowed. _He_ might not know, but knew who _did:_ Kamapua'a.

He cursed himself for not recognizing the old _kupua_. It had been more than a thousand years, plus centuries to spare, since he had seen the shapeshifter and they had only met that one time. Maui barely remembered the encounter beyond that the shapeshifter had made a fool of himself in front of Pele, but he recalled enough to know that Kamapua'a should not be trusted.

It stung that the _kupua_ had tricked him, too. Tricked _him, Maui!_ Maui should not be the one _tricked_ , it should be him tricking _others!_

Well, there was nothing to be done for that now. He could nurse his wounded pride later. For now, he would just have to hunt Kamapua'a down and _find out_ what had been done.

At that thought, however, Maui let out a frustrated groan. This was going to set him back even longer, delaying his journey even more. He would have to really squeeze every last bit of speed out of his sails to make up the time, otherwise he was going to owe Tamatoa quite the apology for showing up late. After everything that had happened, he didn't want to lose Tamatoa's friendship and trust again. Especially not by repeating his past mistakes.

No, he needed to handle this fast. He glanced at the sky, where the first streaks of purple pre-dawn light were beginning to fade in. There was still a bit of time before daybreak and the outgoing tide, but he'd have to hustle.

With that in mind, he lifted his hook with a ringing whoop. Shifting into a hawk, he took flight. He could cover more ground from the air and more easily spot the sneaky _kupua_ with a raptor's keen eye.

Light began to bleed into the sky, red streaking the horizon to the east, as Maui flew low over the island. Sharp eyes kept alert, scanning the forest for any sign of the other shapeshifter—a broken trail or a flash of movement or anything that might give away the man's location.

Even the dawning light did little to hasten his task, however, and only served as reminder that he was running late. Maui's frustration grew. The tide would be turning soon and he had to—

Wait! There!

A flutter of movement caught his eye in the forest below. Letting out a hawk's shrill scream, he folded his wings and curved into a steep dive. Descending fast, he zeroed in on the fleeing _kupua_ , who was nimbly weaving through the trees with a practiced fluidity.

It wasn't enough to avoid Maui. He swooped down with talons open wide, blindingly fast as he dodged tree branches and vines along the way.

Then he struck, slamming into Kamapua'a with the force of a falling boulder. A mortal man would have been flattened by the blow, but the _kupua_ was made of stronger stuff. Caught unaware, Kamapua'a was knocked clear off his feet and tumbled into the soft earth of the forest floor, uttering a blistering oath as he fell.

Before the other man could recover, Maui had shifted back to his human skin. Quick as lightning, he snatched at Kamapua'a's heavy pigskin cape, dragging the _kupua_ to his feet and slamming him up against the trunk of a _koa_ tree.

Kamapua'a barely had time to draw a breath before Maui was in his face. "What did you _do?_ " he demanded, gripping the cape and holding the man firmly against the tree with one hand and brandishing his hook threateningly with the other.

To Maui's surprise, the _kupua_ began to laugh. "You mean, what did _you_ do?"

Maui fought to keep his temper in check, but it was a losing battle already. This man had tricked him, had lead him to do something he didn't fully understand, and Maui was _not_ going to put up with being mocked, too. "You know what I mean!" he snarled back. "Those stones, what _were_ they?"

Unperturbed by Maui's display of wrath, Kamapua'a only grinned at him—unnervingly self-assured. "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," he said, smug satisfaction twisting his lips further.

Maui shoved his hook in the man's face. "No, _you_ tell me," he demanded again. He had no time for these silly games.

The man only smirked, slick as slime. "Nah," he said, cool confidence in his voice. "I think I'll let you find out on your own." He laughed again, "Consider it payback!"

Kamapua'a flashed a smug, triumphant smile that set Maui's teeth on edge. Then there was a muted burst of green light and the pigskin cape went slack in Maui's hands. He looked down just in time to see the fleeing hocks of a pig vanish into the undergrowth, lost to the dappled shadows of morning.

Letting out a growl of thwarted anger and deep frustration, Maui flung the now-empty cloak to the ground. He glanced up to gauge the position of the sun, now hovering just above the horizon line. The tide would be going out now. He had no more time for this. No more time to chase after the slippery shapeshifter.

Glaring into the woods, he raised his voice and called out, "This isn't over, pig! When I get back, I'll—" He faltered, stumbling to think up a suitable threat on the fly and coming up short. "—I'll get answers, one way or the other!"

With that rather weak threat left hanging in the air, he wasted no further time. Flashing into the shape of a hawk, he rose above the trees and soared fast over them towards his canoe, prepped and waiting on the shore.

It didn't take long and in no time at all Maui had landed on the beach. The water was receding, tide pulling it out to sea. Time to get going.

He tossed his hook onto the deck, then gave the boat a shove. It slid easily into the water and Maui leapt aboard. A tug upon the lines and the sail snapped open, billowing out as it caught the wind, and a turn of the steering oar angled the bow towards the crashing surf. Sure and steady, he crossed the breakers and hit the calmer seas beyond them.

Finally, Maui was on his way.

Even as he set out for the bluewater, Maui looked back over his shoulder at the retreating shape of the island. It nagged at him that he had no real idea what tampering with that stone had done. Should he really be leaving without a definitive answer?

He sighed. There was no good option here. Delay to investigate and he risked the fragile trust he'd rebuilt with his best friend—a renewed friendship that was hard won, but still perhaps vulnerable. Leave and he could be abandoning some unknown and potentially brewing disaster.

Well, he'd just have to deal with the known rather than the unknown. He _knew_ things would go badly with Tamatoa if he didn't show up as he promised.

Besides, there didn't seem to be any immediate danger from this. There were no brooding skies, no onrushing darkness, nor any great swarming hordes of monsters unleashed. Whatever it was that the damaged stones did would just have to wait—at least until he'd explained the situation to Tamatoa. Maybe the crab might even know what they were—he had a knack for knowing the lore surrounding nearly every bit of treasure out there.

Resolved, he nodded to himself and set his course. Soon enough he'd be in Lalotai and everything would be fine.

* * *

The world came back jaggedly, filtering in through a haze of pain and discomfort and noise and chaos. What had happened? It had just been a dream, right? Just reliving their nightmare in the realm beneath Lalotai again, right?

Tamatoa opened his eyes to a nightmare made real.

The air was hot, stinging his eyes, and he blinked. Then blinked again. He stared, looking frantically all around himself at something he had only heard of, but never seen: _Fire!_ And this was no dream. The heat of it was intense, far hotter than he had imagined it would be. The orange and red and even blue of it were more vivid than anything Maui had described. It danced menacingly around him, circling not unlike a predator, and deep-seated instinct made fear bubble over. And it was _everywhere_ , there was nowhere he could go, no way to get back to—

His heart stuttered, an icy feeling shooting through him like lightning despite the oppressive heat all around. His _home_. His home was a ruin. The entire, beautiful shell had crumbled to dust and rubble and the fire was already feasting on its remains.

The ring of flame began to surge forward, pressing in closer. Panic seized him and he scrambled to stand, backing away in terror. There was nowhere to flee, nowhere to go. He was trapped, with fire raging all around.

Desperate to escape, he skittered back anyway until one leg slipped, landing on open air and throwing him off balance. He cried out in fear, frantically working to regain his footing. He looked behind him, eyes wide with confused terror. It took a moment to think clearly enough to realize that he'd stepped into the gaping crater of the geyser. Just as he made that realization, there was a rumble beneath him, growling up from far underground.

Panic surged again as the thought of being flipped again by the geyser in the middle of this firestorm sent fear spiking through him. He shied away, taking several hasty steps back. Hemmed in by the approaching fire, though, there was little room to maneuver. Nevertheless, he cringed away from the geyser as far as he dared.

The rumbling grew stronger. Then, with a roaring burst, the geyser behind him erupted, throwing a spume of warm, mineral-laden water high into the air. He was just far enough away to avoid being caught by it. It rained down around him, pattering lightly on his shell. The encroaching line of flames sizzled and sputtered at the edges, dying out in a ring around him as the water hit. It must have been why he'd been spared. His memories were all a blur, but he must have somehow dragged himself into the safety around the—

Wait, there was a gap! The geyser's spray had extinguished a narrow break in the wall of flames. Tamatoa could see a sliver of open space beyond it, charred black but not currently burning. It wasn't much—barely enough for him to squeeze through—but it was at least some sort of escape route.

The flames were pressing back in, beginning to close the already thin gap in the fire. There was no time to consider; he had to act now or he might not be able to get away at all.

Every instinct, every impulse told him to stay back—to avoid the flames, rather than go towards them. He had to do it, though. Claws clenched, he steeled himself, fighting back his fear.

The window in the flames was rapidly shrinking. Now or never. He laid his antennae flat against his back and pulled his pincers in close, then _ran_.

He barreled towards the gap, moving as fast as his legs would carry him. The heat was overbearing, searing and intense. He squinted his eyes against it, beating back his extreme terror. At the last second, he angled sideways to slip through with as thin a profile as possible. Then he was engulfed, flames roaring on either side of his body. Tendrils of flame grasped for him, reaching with searing fingers.

He shot through the gap fast, but the fire was faster and closed in just as he reached the other side. Tongues of flame licked at his legs, sending white hot pain lancing through him. Tamatoa screamed in agony, but kept going as if his life depended on it—which it surely did.

Then he burst through the flames to the other side. He kept going, running almost blindly as far from the fire as he could despite the pain streaking through his legs. Finally, the sum of his pain and fear and exhaustion all became too much and he stumbled to a stop. Panting from the exertion and the pure fear that drove him, Tamatoa looked back.

Everything around the remains of his home was still burning. Free of the circling fire now, he watched in dull, distant horror. The tentacle palms were aflame, thrashing and screeching as they burned. The dying shrieks of other monsters, trapped somewhere in the flames, grated against his antennae and Tamatoa cringed.

Here, at least, the firestorm had come and gone. The ground was blackened, covered in a dusty layer of soot and ash that was stirred into the air with every step. Charred stumps of plants, twisted and contorted, were all around him. It was nearly unrecognizable as the territory he knew.

Out of immediate danger now, he examined his legs. The fire had caught both of them on his right side. His exoskeleton was singed, laced black over an angry red. Gingerly, he flexed them one at a time, then tapped them on the ground, wincing at how tender they were. No serious damage done, at least. It hurt—a lot!—but he'd live.

Then he swiveled an eye to check himself for other injuries, turning it over his shoulder and—

He let out a distressed wail.

His shell was bare. His treasure was gone—all of it. Scraped clean by whatever hazily desperate escape he'd made from his collapsing lair.

Numb with shock, he sank down to the ground. A puff of ash swirled around him. Two thousand years of collecting, two thousand years of treasured artifacts, each with its own memory attached. All gone. _Gone!_ His eyes looked blearily up at the flames engulfing his beautiful home, tearing it apart with ravenous vehemence.

His treasure was gone. His home was gone.

Everything was gone.

* * *

Hmm, that was odd.

Maui squinted into the perpetual fog that surrounded the towering spire of rock that marked the entrance to Lalotai. The haze seemed thicker than usual, billowing in wispy whorls as if driven by confused winds.

As Maui watched, a grey curl of mist wafted over the deck of the canoe. The shifting wind brought with it something distinctly out of place—the faint scent of smoke. Then the wind blew from a fresh direction and the smoky smell was gone.

Maui shrugged it off, telling himself it was fine. Probably just his imagination or, perhaps, another canoe somewhere off in the fog. He was probably just jumpy after all that mess with Kamapua'a days prior. No need to worry, he reassured himself.

He sailed on.

The cliff ought to be in sight by now, but with the fog as murky as a cup of kava, he was hard-pressed to even see the bow of the canoe. Despite his own self-reassurances, Maui felt ill at ease. Something seemed off. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Keeping steady at the rudder, he nevertheless reached down and slid his hook closer on the deck, moving it within easy reach—just a precaution, of course! Everything was fine, but there was no harm in being prepared.

Then the ash began to fall.

Maui stared, caught between a baffled lack of comprehension and a building sense of dread, at the tiny white flakes as they gently drifted down all around him. They settled lightly on his hair and floated in grey clumps in the water, falling like a silent rain. The eerie ashfall seemed to absorb all sound, even deadening the ubiquitous lapping of the sea against the canoe's hull.

Maui ran his hand through his hair, pulling a handful of ash away. He looked at the ash for a long moment, trying to quell the sick feeling that rose up at the sight of it. The ash was falling harder now, in thick choking gusts that burned Maui's lungs and set him to coughing.

Trying to wave the heavy ash away only made his coughing fit worse, however. Finally, he reluctantly reached down and tore a strip of tapa cloth away from the lavalava he wore. He hated to do it. The elaborately dyed tapa, painted in intricate designs of red and brown, had been a gift to him from Moana and her people. It had been lovingly made and he wore it proudly, but there was little else he could use to stave off the ash. He would have sighed with dismay, but he was too busy coughing for any dramatic gestures.

Dipping the cloth in the sea, he wet it down and then wrapped it around his nose and mouth to keep the ash at bay. It would have to do.

He gripped the steering oar tighter, staring grimly ahead through the ash and coaxing a little more speed from the sails. He tried to tell himself that things would be fine when he got to the Impossible Cliff, but he'd finally learned—and learned the hard way—that lying to himself didn't fix anything. This was a bad sign, no denying it. He'd know just how bad soon enough.

As if on cue, the fog rolled back to reveal the towering peak that marked the entrance to Lalotai.

Or rather, it revealed what was _left_ of it. Maui's breath caught in his chest and he stared in wide-eyed shock. The top of the enormous spire was utterly shattered, the columnar blocks of stone scorched black. It stood barely a quarter of its former height, reduced to a pile of rubble and broken talus from which a pillar of dirty smoke emerged—a brown smudge against a hazy grey sky.

Wordless urgency drove him forward to land the canoe gracelessly on the remaining shoreline of the battered seamount. The hull scraped over jagged chunks of rock, grinding to a halt, and Maui leapt off without bothering to tether it. With a single-minded haste, he scaled the remains of the cliff and looked for any sliver of light—any hint of the magical purple glow that marked the way into the Realm of Monsters.

There was nothing. The portal to Lalotai had been destroyed.

Crouched in the rubble, Maui suddenly remembered the smug grin of Kamapua'a and his ominous parting words.

The dreadful gravity of the situation all suddenly crashed down on him with soul-crushing force.

"Oh sh—"


	4. Smoke on the Water

Maui stared at the ominous pile of rubble—all that remained of the portal to Lalotai—without truly seeing it. His mind was filled instead with the image of those glowing veins of rock which had shattered and gone dark under his hook. This was no coincidence—the timing was far too convenient for that and Maui knew without being told that this was what Kamapua'a had meant as 'payback.'

He had barely remembered the _kupua_ , but clearly Kamapua'a had remembered him. How long ago had that been? As he stood amid the smoking remains of the cliff, Maui struggled to recall the details across the centuries. He'd been stranded for a thousand years, but it had been many centuries before that when he had encountered Kamapua'a. Tamatoa had still been sailing with him then. How big had the crab been? That had been the only way he'd ever really been able to keep track of time in those days. And what had they been looking for? Some treasure, most assuredly. Tamatoa was always been better at remembering these little details and—oh!

They had been looking for that magic rock—whatever it was called—that could revert things back to their true form. Some human had been cursed and they had needed it to help him. They'd run into Kamapua'a on the island and the _kupua_ had been trying unsuccessfully to woo Pele.

Maui groaned, remembering now. Tamatoa had used it to force Kamapua'aback into the shape of a pig, right in front of the volcano goddess he was unsuccessfully chatting up. Clearly, the man's pride had been wounded and, like most petty immortal beings, he had carried the grudge—a grudge against _both_ of them. Which meant this was not just revenge against Maui, but against Tamatoa as well.

He looked down at the charred wreckage. Wisps of smoke curled through the stone blocks, dark and foreboding, and the very rocks themselves were scarred black by intense heat and flame. The rubble was still hot beneath his feet, but Maui's blood ran cold with dread. If the portal was shattered like this, what was going on below? What was happening in Lalotai? It would take a monumentally powerful force to do this kind of damage and there was no way that _this_ was the full extent of it.

A piercing dart of concern wound its way into him. Tamatoa was down there, facing who-knows-what on his own. With no way of knowing what was going on in the Realm of Monsters, Maui felt a tide of worry rise up within him. He had, inadvertently but through his own reckless actions, done this. What if his friend was hurt?

The thought spurred him, kicking him free of his thoughts and prodding him into action. Maybe he could still get through this way. Maybe the portal wasn't fully demolished! He _had_ to get through!

He started digging again, heaving chunks of rock out of the way in a desperate attempt to find the portal intact. The stones were heavy, but he was a demigod and he could take it. He tossed them over the edge, where they tumbled into the sea below.

One layer of rock gone, but no luck. He kept at it, his movements growing more hurried and frantic as the spectre of failure loomed behind him. He cast off more stones, but still no glow of purple peeked through.

He let out a frustrated growl as he fruitlessly cleared another pile of rocks away. Trying to bury his fears in denial, he kept going. Surely just a little deeper and he'd break through. He shoved the rocks away faster, barely paying attention as he flung them away. In his rush, he only looked up from his task when—instead of hearing the expected splash—a thrown boulder struck something with a splintering crash.

With a heavy slab of stone still in his hands, Maui jerked to a stop and stiffened as he realized what he had done. Closing his eyes in weary resignation for a brief moment, he let the slab slip through his hands and land back in the pile with a dull thud. Then he stepped to the edge of the cliff to peer over, though he already knew what he would see.

His canoe—the canoe Moana had given him, the canoe they had sailed to Te Fiti together on—was crushed. The boulder had come down in a glancing blow upon the bow, but it was enough to crack the hull open. Already the little boat was beginning to list and flounder in the shallow water it was resting in.

Hopes sinking as steadily as the damaged canoe below, Maui's shoulders slumped. Even from a distance, he could see that the damage was too extensive to sail. With time and materials, it could be repaired, but Maui had neither. The supplies he'd collected and the little gifts he'd brought for Tamatoa spilled out of the broken hull, sinking into the stormy, grey water.

Running a hand through his hair, Maui took a deep breath and forced himself to slow down and _think,_ rather than continuing to bull on ahead heedlessly. No more rushing. He couldn't afford to make another thoughtless mistake right now.

He looked at the tangled mess of rubble and ash around him. This wasn't going to work. He had to face facts: the portal was gone.

After all, he knew well enough that these portals could be terribly fragile things. Maui had closed plenty of them over the centuries to prevent monsters getting into the human world. He had left this one intact, though, as it was generally too difficult for monsters to escape through and too remote for all but the most dedicated humans to find. The rest, however, he had closed and sealed long ago.

Well, all except for that secret spot he'd left for Tamatoa to see the stars, but Maui had no idea where that actually came out on the surface. Without a canoe, it could take _months_ to find it. Something told him he didn't have that long. Beyond that, he knew of no others and—

Wait, that wasn't quite true. There _was_ another way in. He had closed all the other portals he knew of save _one_. The one he tried not to think about.

* * *

Tamatoa stared numbly into the fire that still ravaged his home, trying and failing to adequately process the scene. If not for the dull pain that laced through his singed legs, he might have convinced himself this was all merely a bad dream. It had all happened so fast, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. Everything had been going so well, everything had been so perfect. Now his home was destroyed and his precious collection was gone. He let out a low, despondent sound, wallowing in his own self-pity as he watched the flames climb higher.

He knew Maui had given fire as a gift to the humans, but this was no gift—this was a _curse_. Fire was _terrifying_. The mere sight of it stoked some instinctive fear in him that defied all reason or explanation. Tamatoa could do little but stare into it, mesmerized with horror as it consumed his home.

Then the wind shifted. With a roaring gust, the fire surged again towards where he lay sprawled in the ashy dust. He could feel the heat blowing fiercely against him, sucking the moisture from the air and making it hard to breathe. The crackling din of the fire grew louder and the acrid scent of smoke washed over him, overwhelming his senses.

His eyes went round and wide. The icy tide of fear rose again to flood through him. Broken from his mournful shock, he hastened to stand once more. Ignoring the twinge of pain in his legs, he turned and fled blindly into the ravaged wilds of Lalotai.

The world raced by, but he barely saw it and what he _did_ see, he barely recognized. Driven by primal fear, he ran gracelessly and with desperate speed, using his claws to dig into the dirt and propel himself along faster in a panicked scramble.

Even as he careened through the blackened areas, he found no safety. There was fire _everywhere_. _Everything_ was burning. Fire clung to the treetops, fire lurked in the undergrowth, fire blocked every path.

His eyes darted every which way, trying to make sense of the distorted landscape and seeking any familiar sight that might lead away from the blaze. Nothing looked familiar, there was no shelter.

His steps haunted by fire at every turn, Tamatoa ran on with no clear idea where he was going. Frantic and increasingly desperate, he fled aimlessly in the wasteland of fire and ash. The relentless pursuit of the flames gave him little time for rational thought. Deep, instinctive fear had taken control now and drove him on as the day turned to night.

Tamatoa's strength began to wane with the setting sun. Exhaustion set in an his fast flight slowed to a skittish walk as he pushed on into the hellish night. And with the fading of the watery sunlight from above, the already terrifying world became ever more nightmarish. The shadows were split by roaring pillars of orange flame, dancing in the darkness. The very ground was limned in a spiderweb of glowing red embers, lurking even beneath soils already blackened by fire that had come and gone. It lay just below the ground, waiting to spring up again when disturbed.

Tamatoa had stumbled into one of these patches of buried flame once, sinking into the hot ash as he stumbled through the burning hellscape. It had seared the already scorched tip of his front leg, dragging a pained wail from him. He'd yanked his leg free, sending bright sparks flying, and skittered back. It was an experience he did not want to repeat and, after that, he walked with mincing steps, afraid to trust even the most solid looking ground.

Just as he'd gotten clear of the ash pit, there was a shrieking howl that sent chills running through him. He looked up just in time to see a sloth monster come barreling out of a nest of flames. The creature's traditional mask was gone, its face exposed to the world, and its short, tangled fur was ablaze. It screeched, running towards him with all four arms flailing madly. The flames trailing from the creature's limbs left bright streaks across Tamatoa's vision as it ran past.

It paid him no heed, instead running straight past him and vanishing, lost in the thick haze of smoke that had settled in as the fires had burned on. Tamatoa watched with dull, muted horror, then pressed on in search of some safe haven in all this chaos.

Just when he thought things couldn't become more bleak, ash began to fall. The grey rain of sooty particles settled in a dusty layer across his bare shell. They were still hot, stinging as they landed on the more delicate skin of his face and neck. Shuddering, he tried to shake the ash off as he scurried to find some escape from this latest horror.

By some small, thin chance, he somehow stumbled across an overhanging shelf of rock large enough to cram his enormous bulk under. Temporarily out of the burning ashfall, he stared with wide eyes at the hellish, hazy world waiting beyond the ledge's enveloping shadow.

Barely visible through the smoke, he could see a landmark he recognized at last. It brought him little comfort. The vibrant, mountainous reefs that he knew so well were ablaze, fully engulfed in sheets of flame. Their slopes glowed red in the night, crisscrossed by lines of shadowy black and highlighted in brilliant, flickering orange. It might have been beautiful if the flames were not so terrifying.

He stared at them in despair. He'd hunted and explored those reefs for centuries, but now they too were blanketed in destructive flames. Was there any place truly safe? He felt so small and alone, lost in his own homeland with nowhere to go. How long could he keep fleeing before he made some fatal misstep? Hopeless and more afraid than he could ever remember being before in all his long life, Tamatoa shrunk deeper under the rocky ledge and closed his eyes, trying to block it all out.

* * *

With his canoe out of commission, Maui had no option but to fly the whole way to his destination. Even hopping from island to island to take breaks and rest where he could, it was still exhausting work and took him the better part of a week. All the while, he was plagued with worry for Tamatoa. There was no way of knowing what was going on down in Lalotai, but considering the destruction at the portal, it couldn't be anything good. So, he pushed himself hard, flying as fast as his hawk's wings could take him.

Even so, when he finally saw the familiar, broken silhouette of an island rise above the horizon line, his relief was tinged with a deep-seated apprehension. The island would be uninhabited, of course—no human would dare set foot on that notorious place—so there was nothing to fear upon it, and yet the very sight of it made Maui deeply uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, he angled towards the bright crescent of beach that curved gently around a shallow, protected cove. Beyond the cove, crumbling, misshapen hillsides were covered in a tangle of overgrown vegetation. In the centuries upon centuries since he'd seen this place, the foliage had clearly reclaimed the island. That was of no importance, though. The plants would have little impact on the portal he knew was here.

In a tired flutter of feathers, Maui landed upon the beach and shifted back to his human form. Wearily, he slumped down to sit on the warm sand and let his hook fall loose beside him. He sat for a long moment, just breathing hard from the long flight.

When he had finally caught his breath, the first thing that struck Maui was the silence. It was eerie and unnatural. There were no birds chirping in the trees, nor insects singing in the underbrush. Even the sounds of the sea were muted, with only gentle wavelets pressing against the shore in the sheltered cove. Distantly, he could hear more substantial waves crashing on some other part of the island, but even that was faint. Instead, the dominant sound was merely a lonely, whistling wind. The silence was deafening and yet the wind haunted him, whispering with old voices.

He looked beyond the beach, where a vast forest had once stood. It had been leveled long ago and now the land was filled with low undergrowth, creeping vines and sprouting ferns marching over the rotten remains of the fallen trees. Time had erased most of what had been here before, but he could still see some of the ancient hardwood logs slowly disintegrating under the encroaching new growth.

The weight of the solitude pressed in on him, heavy and oppressive.

Maui hauled himself to his feet, eager to leave this place. As he stood, his toe caught upon something. He reached down and brushed the sand away, revealing a glint of glittering gold. He pushed more sand away until he could pry the gleaming item out from where it was half-buried. Maui held it up to the light. It was a seashell—a closed-up pair of clamshells, polished to a pearlescent gold. The top was worn smooth by rain and wind, but where it had been concealed beneath the sand it was covered in delicate, intricate carvings. A fallen treasure, left behind for a thousand years.

This had been Tamatoa's island.

Maui had pulled it up ages ago, after the crab had grown too large to sail with him. Looking at it now, it really was a small island.

Maui had meant for it to be a temporary solution, until he could figure out something better. He had never come up with a better idea. Maui had meant to come back to visit, to spend time with his friend. He had never come back.

Not for many centuries, anyway. Not until he found out what Tamatoa had been _doing_ here in his absence. A spark of anger flickered within Maui at the very thought. The crab had taken to luring passing ships to wreck the island's treacherous shoals, then stealing their treasures and eating the humans aboard. Even now, Maui had difficulty reconciling the two drastically different images—the trusted friend he had spent centuries with and the monster that had dwelled here.

Confronted with those thoughts again, Maui couldn't quite suppress the anger that rose up within him. Now, however, it lacked the blind rage that it had when he first learned of all this. At the time, he'd come back to confront the crab monster, but he had come with no real plan. Inevitably, they had fought, but in the end Maui had won. As he had stood over Tamatoa, the crab sprawled unconscious on the beach, Maui's rage had burned so hot that he'd considered killing his old friend. His hook had been raised, poised and ready. The temptation was there—just another monster to slay—but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

Instead, he turned his fury upon the island. He'd torn the forest apart, wreaking devastation on this place he had given—quite generously, he had thought at the time—to his traitorous friend. He'd battered the hillsides, shattering boulders and rending the ground itself to shreds. The anger and betrayal that swelled within him was unlike anything he'd felt before. Driven by that rage, he had somehow summoned up some previously unrealized and barely controlled well of power. With it, he had ripped the island itself open. The rift he'd laid bare with his hook had delved deep into the earth. Deep enough that, as he stood, breathlessly surveying the extent of the destruction he had wrought in his fit of temper, he could see the pale sheen of magic far below that marked the borders of Lalotai.

It was through there he had shoved Tamatoa. And it was through there that he must go to find his friend now.

Yet here he stood, amidst the time-eroded evidence of his temper, hemmed in by the silent wreckage of his old mistakes and weighed down by all new ones. Mistakes and more mistakes.

He reached down for the fishhook still laying in the sand, but found himself hesitating as old doubts crept back in.

* * *

Maui had no memory of his parents beyond what little he had been told. While he had no first hand memory of that day, the tattoo burned between his shoulder blades never permitted him to forget. He had been abandoned. His mother had cast him into the sea when he was just an infant, for reasons he never knew. He was left only to assume he was unwanted, unloved.

Nothing more than a helpless babe, he surely would have died if not for the intervention of the gods. The gods had found him floating alone and adrift in the vast sea and the Ocean had carried him to where the gods made their home. They had saved him and made him a demigod, but their reasons for doing so were even more inscrutable than those of his mother.

His earliest memories were of asking _why_. _Why_ had his mother thrown him away? _Why_ was he so easy to cast aside? _Why_ had the gods saved him? His questions were never answered. When asked, the gods invariably just smiled upon him in that maddeningly enigmatic way.

Whatever their reasons, the gods had raised Maui—after a fashion, anyway. Mysterious beings of a divine nature, his caretakers had been cryptic and unfathomable. While many of the lesser gods took forms closer to his own and spoke as he did, the greater and more elemental gods were often leagues beyond expression via mere words. They seemed to exist on a plane drastically separate from all others, interacting only in vague gestures and glances. So while Maui was treated with much kindness and care, it was all at a distance. They loved him in the charitable way that gods love all their subjects, but to Maui it seemed more like pity than anything else. It lacked the warmth of a more familial love and bond—a warmth Maui quietly craved. Despite the pantheon of gods around him, he was lonely.

Time passed quickly, however, and he grew from infant to boy and boy to man. Each of the gods taught him something along the way—to fight and to fish, to sing and to dance, to sail and navigate by the stars. Some lessons took root—he excelled at fighting and sailing. And others did not—he would _never_ make an even halfway decent fisherman.

As he edged closer towards adulthood, he began to suspect they were grooming him for something. Soon enough, his suspicions seemed confirmed when they bestowed a gift upon him: his fishhook.

Afterwards, Maui had been confused. Sitting alone in the enveloping shade of a screwpine tree, he had leaned back against the sprawling roots and tried to make sense of it all. The new fishhook lay across his lap and his fingers drummed idly on the handle. He could feel the power contained within it, a wild and earthy magic swirling within the boldly carved bone.

What did they expect him to do with this? Te Fiti herself had awoken for the first time in an age to give the hook to him, but then she had returned to her slumber without much more than a beatific smile for Maui. There had been no guidance, no instructions. The gods had simply provided the hook and left the rest a mystery.

It was a mighty gift, but Maui couldn't hold back his doubts. Why would they offer him such a thing? Him, a castoff that they took pity upon?

With his doubts crowding around, Maui let himself be distracted to escape them. His gaze fell on an iguana, ambling placidly along. He watched it calmly graze on fallen _fala_ fruits, nibbling on the sweet smelling wedges in the shade. The lizard seemed so carefree, untroubled by the thoughts plaguing Maui. It must be a simple, easy life as an animal like that. Maui was envious. As he tapped his fingers idly on the fishhook, he wished he could be like that little iguana, if only for a little while. He could just picture it, not a care in the world and wandering through the underbrush on fast little legs and—

There was a flash of blue light, so close and dazzling that it left Maui reeling. An odd, queasy sensation arced through him, tingling in his skin and leaving him feeling twisted and disoriented. Suddenly dizzy, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he stared in baffled confusion. Everything around him seemed to have grown enormous—the trees, the fallen piles of _fala_ fruit. Before he could get his bearings, there was an angry hiss and he whipped his head around to look.

A monstrous lizard was glaring at him, jaws wide and fangs bared. It was _huge!_ Nearly as big as him! Maui let out a startled yelp, hurrying to back away. His legs didn't work right, though, and he tumbled over backwards. As he fell end over end, he heard a sharp cheep from the giant lizard, then a scampering of feet as it fled.

Lying dazed on his back, Maui stared up at the sky in bewilderment. What in the world—? Everything felt so strange. Why did he feel so weird? He went to run a hand through his hair, but stopped dead halfway through the familiar motion.

His hand was scaly. Scaly, with fingers tipped in curving little claws. A _lizard's_ hand. Eyes going wide, he stared at it in shock. Whoa.

He looked down slowly at the surreal sight that was the rest of himself. His whole body had been transformed, turned into a lizard not unlike the iguana he'd been watching. But _how?_

Then he caught sight of a marking on his scaly skin, looking very much like a tattoo of a fishhook, and abruptly it all clicked. The fishhook! So _this_ was what it was for! The magic inside it must have let him shapeshift!

A wide smile grew on his reptilian face as a thrilling rush of potential surged through him. This really _was_ a mighty gift! It _must_ have been more than pity for the gods to give him something so special and powerful. No, they had given him something that made him _special_. That made him _Maui_. With this fishhook, the possibilities were endless. With it, he would show the world he wasn't worthless.

He stopped, his jubilant thoughts grinding to a crashing halt.

He looked down at his scaled body. Well, he'd show them, yes. Just as soon as he figured out how to change himself _back._

* * *

Tamatoa did not remember his mother either. Instinctively, he knew this was because his kind did not raise their young beyond carrying and safeguarding their eggs until they were ready to hatch. He was born when his mother, whoever she was, released those eggs into the water at some place where the sea sloped down to meet the ground in Lalotai. She would have turned and walked away, her maternal tasks completed as soon as the eggs hit the water.

He had no memory of this. Nor did he have much memory of the time he spent adrift in the sea itself. It was months he spent as a free swimming larva before his first molt transformed him to an air-breathing creature of the land. He had only vague impressions of that time, blurry and indistinct and of questionable authenticity. Just fleeting glimpses of water and drifting in darkness that sometimes inhabited his dreams. Likewise, mostly by instinct rather than memory, he knew that he had found a seashell and crawled out of the water to land after that metamorphizing molt. He had no _real_ memory of this either, however—just a species memory, embedded in his biology and serving to inform him of how his kind reproduced even if he'd never encountered another monster crab before.

No, his earliest memories had been fear—fear of the swooping eight-eyed bats which shrieked overhead, fear of the larger monsters and their grasping claws, fear of becoming a meal for any of the creatures that roamed Lalotai. A tiny, nameless crab, alone in a dangerous realm, his existence was one of hastily running from one hiding place to another, snatching whatever morsels of food he could scavenge in between.

Mostly, he was alone. He didn't know when or how he began to speak, but it didn't much matter because there was no one to talk to. In the absence of conversation, he sang to himself. Quietly, though, as to not attract the attention of bigger creatures.

He grew slowly, molting often but not enough to outstrip the other creatures around him. Nevertheless, as his size increased he became bolder and more curious. His claws grew strong and he learned to use them.

His first real, solid memory was of fighting for his life. He had fended off a rat-like creature in a desperate struggle. It had been nearly twice his size and had nosed its way into the burrow he'd dug for himself under a fallen tentacle palm log. Tamatoa had awakened to a sharply-pointed snout and huge yellow teeth in his face, snapping at him and trying to dig him out of his safe haven.

Fear had gripped him, but then a ferocity welled up from deep within and drove out that fear. The creature was invading _his home_. Without conscious thought, he had struck at the creature with his claws. It was a wild snap, but by some miracle his pincer had closed around the creature's nose. As soon as he felt the fuzz-covered snout in his claw, he had clamped down with all his strength.

To his surprise, there was a crunching of delicate bones and hot blood ran down his claw. The creature gave a shriek and backpedaled, but Tamatoa hung on. As the creature tried to drag him out, he braced his legs against the walls of his burrow and swung his other pincer to join the first. This one caught the rat around the throat. He squeezed again, pulsing his claws against the warm flesh of the beast. It made a hissing, gagging sound and struggled furiously. The needle sharp claws of its front feet scratched desperately at Tamatoa's face, leaving thin gashes. He closed his eyes and held on.

The rat continued to jerk and thrash, its claws gouging nasty lines across the exposed exoskeleton of his legs and leaving bloody slashes on the softer skin of his face and neck. Tamatoa endured it all, never relenting from his steely hold upon it. He didn't let up a fraction, not even to adjust his grip; to do so might let the creature escape. This was a mortal struggle between the two of them, and Tamatoa was determined to win.

Slowly, inexorably, the rat's struggles began to weaken as the pincer around its neck cut off its air supply. It took an interminably long time to die, however, and it didn't die easy. In its death throes, it continued to inflict wounds upon Tamatoa, until finally it drew its last ragged breath and sagged limply in his grasp.

Even then, Tamatoa did not let go. He kept his claws firmly around the rat's nose and throat for what might have been hours, waiting with calm, cold patience to be _certain_ his foe was not going to revive and harm him further. The gashes the rat had inflicted upon him began to ache and sting, crusting over even in the humid air, but he forced himself to ignore the pain as time slowly crept by.

Finally, after enough time had passed without a flicker of movement, he decided that the rat was truly dead. Gingerly, he loosened his claws. Once released, the rat did not move and Tamatoa sighed with relief. He was battered, but he had survived. He had survived _and_ he had killed his opponent.

Looking down, he saw his claws were covered in red blood, thickening and turning dark as it dried. Almost automatically, he brought one to his mouth and licked it.

Tamatoa smiled. It tasted good—warm and bright, with a slight metallic tang. He had scavenged plenty of old, rotting heaps of meat when he could find it, but never anything fresh like this—and never anything _he_ had killed. This was new and exciting and Tamatoa liked it.

Eager, he grabbed the carcass of his kill and dragged it deeper into the darkness of his burrow. There, safely ensconced, he happily tore into it. He greedily gorged himself on the still-warm flesh until he was so stuffed he could barely move. Sated, he tucked the rest away for later and curled up for a pleasant nap. Without doubt, it had been the best meal he'd ever had—up until that point, at least.

In the wake of his first victory, he grew more fierce. There was still plenty to fear, but some drive deep within him refused to let him cower and hide forever.

* * *

When Tamatoa opened his eyes again, all the shadows had been driven away, overtaken by a harsh, flickering orange light. The heat was overbearing, beating down upon him once more with dry and choking gusts of ash-laden wind. The fire had advanced while he had dallied here, closing in upon the rocky ledge he was huddled under. It lingered not far away, lying in wait like a ravenous beast just beyond the temporary shelter. Soon enough, Tamatoa would be cornered by the blaze if he remained in his makeshift hiding place.

Eyes that had been glazed with fear nearly every moment since he first woke to his lair tumbling down around him finally sharpened, focusing with renewed clarity on the situation before him. Tamatoa steadied himself, forcing his wild, racing thoughts out of their panicked spiral. He couldn't hide here; couldn't keep running blindly.

But all of Lalotai seemed to be aflame and he didn't know what to do. He wished Maui was here with him to face all of this. The demigod should have been on his way—he had promised. Had he made it to Lalotai? Was he lost in all this chaos too? Maui probably should have arrived today, judging by the position of the stars just the day before—

Tamatoa's antennae swept up as realization crashed into him. The star tunnel! If he could somehow make it there, he could perhaps slip out of Lalotai and wait for this to all blow over. He peered out from under the ledge, eyes scanning the embattled landscape. Everything was so twisted and distorted that it was hard to know precisely where he was, but from the distant reefs—still aglow with vicious lines of fire—he had a rough idea at least. It wouldn't be easy, he'd blundered quite a ways in the opposite direction during his blind, terrified flight. He had to try, though. It was either that or give up and let the flames take him.

Tamatoa had been alive for nearly two thousand years. He had fought men and monsters and demigods and eldritch abominations. He had survived the wilds of Lalotai as a young crab, all alone. He had endured near starvation on his horrid old island and yet thrived. His leg had been torn off by a friend, but still he recovered. And he had been through endless other mishaps and misadventures. He was _not_ about to let this fire kill him now.

A growl—summoned up from the depths of his monstrous heritage—rumbled through his throat. Drawing on some forgotten reserve of strength, he heaved his tired bulk to rise up from where he was crouched, shaking the accumulated ash off his shell.

He was _Tamatoa_ and he would not hide.

* * *

Maui's fingers closed around the sennit-wrapped handle of his fish hook. Feeling the familiar coarseness it in his hand was like coming home. He took a fortifying breath, then threw off the oppressive blanket of doubt that had settled on him once again. There was no time for those doubts, anyway.

Hook in hand, Maui started walking. He looked around the lonely island, crowded with the ghosts of past mistakes. Sure, he had made mistakes then—and had made all new ones now—but he would put them right. And this time, he wouldn't wait more than a thousand years to do it.

He thought about Moana and all that he had learned from her. And about Tamatoa and the hard path they had traveled together to find friendship again. In the short span of time since Moana had found him on that forsaken pile of rocks, Maui had grown and changed so much. More than he had in hundreds of years before that. There was no reason to fall back on old habits, to succumb to old doubts, anymore.

Hacking a final tangle of plants away from the path with his fishhook, Maui's brooding was cut short. The dense foliage seemed to draw back in an unnatural clearing, revealing his destination.

The rift yawned before him, a gaping wound carved deep into this accursed island. Jungle vines had crept over the lip of it, dangling in a green tumble down the grey walls of the chasm. Looking at the impossibly deep scar on the land, Maui still couldn't believe he had _done_ this. He had truly let his temper get away from him that day.

It wasn't important right now, though. Deep in the abyss, a glimmering purple light hazily pulsed below. This was no gentle drop through air and water, but a tangle of jagged stones that reached with clawing fingers into the narrow passage. The portal was still here, though, and that was all that mattered.

Maui stepped up to the edge, hook gripped tight in one hand. He opened the other, still clutching the shiny trinket that he had found on the beach. Just as he prepared to drop it back to the ground, a whim struck him and he instead tucked it into the folds of his _lavalava_.

There was no way of knowing what awaited down there, but he would face whatever it was regardless. He would find Tamatoa—his best friend—and they would figure this out together.

Skipping all pretense and even forgoing his usual warcry, Maui leapt without ceremony into the rift and plummeted down towards the glowing lights of Lalotai.


	5. Break On Through

The descent into Lalotai seemed endless. Longer than the easy drop through the now-destroyed portal at the cliff, it was also far more perilous. As he fell, he whipped past sharp, rocky outcroppings that threatened to tear him to ribbons. Some came close enough to snatch at his hair, but thankfully he managed to avoid much worse than that-angling his descent as best he could to keep clear of the rocks.

Then the shimmering purple barrier of Lalotai rose up to meet him. Maui drew in a deep breath and held it, just as he reached it. He felt a tingling in the air, the telltale feeling of magic all around him. But unlike the usual familiar warmth that accompanied it, this time there was a sense of something _wrong_. It prickled like needles on his skin, sharp and uncomfortable. A peculiar metallic taste formed at the back of his throat and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Before Maui could really process what any of this meant, he broke through the barrier and fell into open air. Readying himself, he cast a brief look down in search of a proper place to land. What Maui saw in that quick glance shook him to the very core.

Lalotai was burning.

From his high position, still falling towards the ground, he could see for leagues in all directions. And in every direction, the Realm of Monsters was blanketed in a carpet of unrelenting flame.

So taken by surprise, so overwhelmed by the staggering enormity of the destruction, Maui could only stare—even as he swiftly plummeted towards the inferno below. It was only when he began to feel the intense heat of the nearing blaze that he snapped out of his shock.

There was nowhere to land, not in this endless sea of flame. He swung his hook in a wide arc as the fire licked closer. In a flash his hawk wings were open, catching the heated air rising off the blaze and lifting him out of danger. He soared up with barely a handbreadth of space to spare between him and the fire, feathers nearly singed by the searing heat below him. Wheeling away, he gained altitude before looking down again.

Everything was so much worse than he had expected. Stunned, he could do little more than look upon it in disbelief. As far as he could see, in all directions, fire sprawled across the land. And what few areas were not _currently_ on fire were deeply scarred, painted black with ash and dotted with thin trails of smoke rising from the burned out ground.

Maui drew in a sharp breath, heart clenching in his chest. Laying collapsed on the charred earth was the twisted carcass of some enormous monster that had been caught in the firestorm-contorted and locked in its final moments of agony. He dipped closer, dread seeping into his very bones. The dead creature was scorched nearly beyond recognition, burned black and heaped in a tangled pile. It was only after Maui was close enough to identify that the creature was _not_ a crab that he was able to breathe again.

He looked again at the unfortunate creature and urgency swept through him, fueled by the terrible gravity of the situation. Tamatoa was down there somewhere—somewhere in this burning wasteland of Maui's inadvertent making. _Maui_ _had to find him_.

There was no time to waste. Keen eyes swept over the warped landscape, looking for familiar landmarks. No easy task when everything was either gutted by or overrun with fire, but he was a wayfinder and it wasn't long before he got his bearings. Turning sharply, he set his course and sped in the direction of Tamatoa's home.

High above the devastation below, Maui flew as fast as his tired wings could carry him. He tried not to look too closely at the charred earth beneath him, worried about what he might find if he did. His mind drifted into dreadful speculation, but he shook those dire thoughts off. No, Tamatoa was clever and resilient. He couldn't— _couldn't!_ —have fallen victim to these flames. He was probably holed up, safe in his lair and waiting it all out. Maui clung desperately to this thought as he hurried on.

Despite the confused chaos of the landscape beneath him, Maui was pretty sure that he was nearly there. Just a little farther, then the familiar shell spires should come into view. He could see the spume of the geysers already, spray reaching into the air. It was odd that he could see that spray, but not the towering shell of Tamatoa's lair.

When the awful realization hit him, Maui braked sharply in mid-air, eyes wide, and his blood turned to ice in his veins, despite the heat that scorched the air all around. No, no, _no!_

The spires were not there. The _shell_ was not there. Where once the grand and showy lair had proudly stood, now there was little more than a smoking ruin-tarnished with soot and crumbled to rubble.

He dropped fast from the sky, landing in his human shape amid the destruction. Heart pounding, he took in the whole scene. It was far worse on the ground than it had seemed from above-and it looked _awful_ from above. Tamatoa's home was utterly leveled, crushed to a mere pile of shards and blackened bits of shell. The ground was still hot from the fire, uncomfortable under even Maui's thickly calloused soles. As he stepped closer, sharp smoke filled his nose, making him cough and hack.

Despite his shortness of breath, sheer desperation gave him voice to call out into the hazy wreckage. " _Tamatoa!_ "

There was no answer, only the soft crackling of embers still burning beneath the crusty surface of the ruin. Maui's eyes swept over the scene and his pulse quickened with dread. Surely Tamatoa wasn't here when this happened. The pile of rubble was too small to contain a crab his size. Surely he wasn't here.

There was a cracking snap as some smoldering piece of the shell walls broke apart. The mound of rubble shifted as pieces of the disintegrating lair collapsed and settled again. It was then that Maui caught a glint of gold, peeking out of the debris. His breath caught at the sight. Fear of what he was about to find gripped him, but he nevertheless hurried forward. Ignoring the prickling heat under his bare feet, he charged into the wreckage, frantically calling out his friend's name as he began to shove rubble out of his way.

Brushing aside the hot ashes, he realized that the bit of shine was only a small fragment. Just some broken treasure buried in the dust. Digging deeper, he quickly uncovered more. There were pieces of scorched treasure scattered everywhere-some melted, some scorched, all destroyed. There was no sign of the crab himself, though, so he dug on, paying no heed to how the embers seared his palms. All the while, he continued to yell for Tamatoa with increasing trepidation. With this much of his collection in the debris, Tamatoa must have been here.

Maui's thoughts spiraled wildly as he searched for his friend, trying to stave off the building fear of what exactly he was going to find here. With the cavernous shell so utterly destroyed, it seemed impossible that _any_ creature could have survived this. And there was _so much_ damaged treasure strewn around. Every new shattered trinket that Maui uncovered filled him with growing dismay. Tamatoa would not have willingly left his treasures behind.

A creaking sound interrupted his thoughts and, weakened by the hurried excavations, the pile shifted again. It began to wobble, teetering precariously. Alarmed, Maui jumped back and hastily scrambled away. No sooner had he gotten clear of it than the rubble began to break up in earnest. With a crashing roar and a hissing pop of sparks, the ruin simply imploded. Collapsing inward, what little remained of Tamatoa's home was lost into a choking cloud of dust.

After a long moment, the smoke and haze began to pull back and reveal the final stroke of the destruction. The lair was reduced now to only a low heap of sooty slabs and broken cinders. Maui strained to peer through the dust, hardly daring to breathe while seized by the dreadful anticipation of seeing another charred monster corpse appear before him.

A gust of hot wind drove the rest of the billowing haziness away.

Tamatoa wasn't there.

A small relief washed over Maui and he let out a gusty sigh. He knew this didn't mean Tamatoa was _safe_ , but at least there was hope. Panic edging down a notch, Maui took a deep breath and forced his racing thoughts to slow down. He glanced around, trying to be logical about this. Where would Tamatoa go? What place would seem safe?

His gaze drifted up, staring blankly at the rippling underside of the sea far above him. The light from the surface was beginning to fade with the afternoon. A few more hours and it would be night and searching Lalotai in the dark would be difficult and dangerous. Soon that placid, rippling barrier would be darker than any night sky in the surface world, devoid of all light.

When the realization hit him, Maui laughed-not a jovial laugh by any measure, but a short, sharp one of suddenly released tension in a humorless nightmare. It sounded a little mad, even to his own ears, but it didn't matter. He knew where Tamatoa would go.

* * *

It shouldn't have taken Tamatoa more than a day to get back to the tunnel that lead to his stargazing spot, but there was no easy way to get there now—not when everything was engulfed in flames or burned into unrecognizable ash. It didn't help that he had, in his initial terror, fled for leagues in the dead wrong direction, either. He cursed himself for rushing so blindly into the wilds of Lalotai, leaving him far from where he needed to be. Now the journey back would be even more arduous. All the familiar paths were cut off, forcing him to take circuitous detours that cost him dearly in time and effort. And all the while, he was pursued by fire. It seemed to be everywhere, consuming everything in its path and leaving nothing but a surreal, charred wasteland behind. Even when the flames themselves were out of sight, heavy rains of hot ash fell as a stark reminder that the firestorm was never far behind.

He'd been walking for several days now, fighting his way through this endless inferno. He had neither eaten nor slept and it was taking its toll. Weariness dogged him, exhaustion dragging at him and dulling his wits. His burned legs hurt with every step—a dull ache, but one that could not be completely ignored. As he trudged on, however, the blackened bones of other monsters, fallen along the trail, reminded him of what awaited him should he dare stop. That fear drove him relentlessly and so he kept going, heading towards the promise of safety despite his fatigue. The portal to the surface world remained his last thin sliver of hope as the world burned down around him.

Tamatoa was _certain_ that once he reached his star tunnel, he'd be okay. Through it, he could escape this waking nightmare. The promise of a fresh sea breeze, tangy with salt, and the clear, open skies overhead hung like a tantalizing lure. He hadn't given any thought as to what exactly he would _do_ once out of Lalotai, but it didn't matter. At least he would be free of the flames and that was as far ahead as he could think on the matter right now. Exhausted and afraid, his mind simply _refused_ to think beyond it.

He was getting close, too. He had already passed several familiar landmarks, twisted and disfigured, but still recognizable. Just a little farther and he should arrive at a series of shallow lakes, then it would be just a short trek to the tunnel from there.

Fierce, dry winds spawned by the firestorms bore down upon him in hot gusts, stinging his eyes and throat. It left him feeling desiccated and direly thirsty. At least he'd be at those lakes soon. There, he could take short break and get something to drink. With the thought of that cool, refreshing water at the forefront of his mind, he kept going.

When the lake came into sight, however, something seemed off. It was hard to be sure at a distance, but the pond seemed dull and dark. As he moved closer and got a better look, his antennae drooped in dismay. The lake was covered in frothy, filthy scum. Ugly clumps of ash floated in the still water, staining it an unhealthy shade of grey, and a foul, biting odor drifted off the water and wafted over to him. Charred palm logs bobbed slowly in the deeper areas of the lake, the burned remnants of their fronds collecting the corpses of bloated, rotting fish.

It was hard to believe this was once a beautiful oasis, flanked with neon-glowing tentacle palms and swaying sea fans, bedecked in brilliant colors. The lake's deeper waters had been teeming with long, slithery eels that glowed green in the night. After days wandering this wasteland, it seemed like a lifetime ago that he had last fished some of those tasty little eel morsels out of the lake. Now, he doubted there was much alive in the lake at all.

Tamatoa stared into the dirty lake, torn between his parching thirst and the unsanitary water. Slowly, he dipped an antenna into the murk, testing its safety; after a long moment, he grimaced and withdrew it. He hadn't detected anything lethally dangerous in the water at least, but there wasn't anything pleasant about it either.

He flicked a claw across the water, trying to drive some of the floating detritus away, but it was no use. The water was thick with debris and muck, but he had little choice except to drink it. Reluctantly, he leaned low to the lake's surface and drank the tepid water. He shuddered. It was bitter and disgusting, leaving a gritty aftertaste in his mouth. It was hardly refreshing, but at least it was preferable to dying of thirst. Miserable and resenting every sip, he drank as much as he could stand before moving on.

It felt like an eternity, but soon enough the towering rock walls were within sight. Relief surged through him. He had made it! The tunnel was just up ahead. Just a few more weary steps to drag himself, then he would be safe at last. Spurred by the thought, he willed his legs to move faster and hurried forward. It would be morning in the surface world now and he could already imagine the bright sunlight gently warming his shell. He could almost taste that sea air. Relief was waiting for him, just a little farther.

Then he stopped.

At first, he thought he was in the wrong place. Perhaps he had gotten turned around or confused in the ashy wasteland. But no, he had gone to watch the stars every night for months upon months through this tunnel. Even scorched by fire, even weary as he was, there was no mistaking the location.

The tunnel was simply gone.

There was no evidence of collapse, no pile of rocks to mark where it should be. Instead, the wall was featureless and smooth, as if the entire mountainside had slid downward into the earth and taken the tunnel with it.

Tentatively, he extended his antennae forward, reaching towards where the tunnel ought to be, seeking any hint of its presence, searching for any whiff of the magic which once sparkled here, forming a fragile portal into the surface world.

There was nothing. No trace, not even the faintest glimmer of magic remained.

Tamatoa let out a thin, keening wail. The composure he'd tried to maintain and the hope he'd been clinging to melted away. Frantic, he scraped wildly at the wall with his claws and legs, trying to force the stones open, to dig out an escape. This was his only hope, this was the only way out left for him. He had to get through, he had to!

His legs slid ineffectively off the rocks, finding no purchase. He scrabbled against it anyway, leg tips scratching at the unyielding stone. He looked for any crack, any weakness that he could pry apart, but there was nothing. Increasingly desperate, he pounded on the wall with his pincers—each blow against the dense wall sending a jolt of pain through him. The rocks didn't budge, standing unmoved by his frenzied clawing and pounding at them. After coming all this way, he had to find a way to escape! But as his already diminished strength faded, his assault on the wall slowed—blows coming weaker and fainter until he had nothing left within him to continue.

Finally, he slid down to the dusty earth in defeat and slumped mournfully against the bare patch of stone. Hope fled with his strength and he gazed blankly ahead, too weary to form coherent thoughts beyond that he was truly trapped now. He was stuck in this never-ending cataclysm. Where could he go now? If even this tunnel was gone, there really was no safe place to escape this terror.

The destruction of his home and the stripping away of his treasure had been demoralizing, but this was a far deeper wound. After more than a thousand years, he _finally_ had his stars back and now they had been ripped from him once more. Even if he somehow miraculously survived this catastrophe, he'd never see them again. It was the final straw, crushing the last vestiges of hope that he had been hanging onto.

Tamatoa let himself slowly collapse into the dirt. As he did, a fine rain of ash began to fall again, driven ahead of approaching flames on a heavy wind. There was no escape now and soon enough the fire would catch up to him. Devoid of all hope, there was nothing to do but wait. He knew it wasn't safe to stay here, but exhausted and too overwhelmed by loss to care, he let his head drop to his claws anyway. Closing his eyes, he let sleep take him at last.

* * *

Lalotai was never meant to be touched by fire.

Maui had stolen fire from the underworld, but, despite the name, that was an entirely different realm from Lalotai. He knew little enough about the inner workings of the Realm of Monsters, but he knew enough to recognize how dangerous that gift would be in such a place. Previously untouched by such things, the entire ancient realm might very well burn away, with all the creatures in it. And if the destruction he was witnessing was any indication, that outcome was becoming a distinct possibility.

He kept his sharp hawk's eyes on the ground as he flew overhead, looking for any sign of his friend. The terrain was shredded beyond belief and the light was beginning to fade as the sun set in the surface world, but even so it shouldn't be hard to spot a gigantic crab covered in shiny stuff.

But he hadn't seen him thus far and it wasn't much farther to the tunnel. Maui was beginning to get antsy, growing more anxious by the second. He skimmed over a low ridge, crossing it quickly. The tunnel was just ahead.

That couldn't be right. This was the place, but where was the tunnel? Where the tunnel should have opened, there was just a massive mound of grey rocks. Worry clawing at his heart, he circled in lower to get a better look. There was no sign of Tamatoa, but—

Wait. That ash-covered boulder. Was that—?

The immense mound was unmistakably shaped like a giant crab, covered in a thick layer of ash and silt and partially buried in the dirt. But the mound wasn't moving, still and silent as the grave. Maui's heart froze in his chest, thoughts crowded by possibilities too terrible to name.

Steeling himself, Maui folded his wings and dove, rocketing down as quickly as he could. Stumbling through a hasty landing and transformation, he skidded to a stop in his human skin right alongside his motionless friend. Ash stirred up behind him from his quick and clumsy footsteps, floating like dust motes in the air before gradually settling again.

He took a breath, braced himself for the worst, and then hesitantly called out in a voice that seemed small even to him. "Tamatoa?"

A few moments seemed like an eternity, in which the silence dragged out heavily and seemed to carry the weight of all Maui's mistakes with it. Then, at last, there was a soft hiss of shifting sand and the giant crab began to move. Maui let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Slowly, Tamatoa's head rose from where it had been half covered by sand, eyes blinking blearily. The crab was filthy, his face smudged with dirt and grime. Mismatched eyes stared, unseeing and glazed over, as if focused on some middle distance. When they eventually fell on Maui, they squinted in bewilderment.

Voice thick and blurred with disbelief, Tamatoa spoke as if through a lifeless fog. "Maui?" Then, the crab seemed to sharpen his focus and his eyes lit back up with a more familiar and lively spark. "Maui!" he repeated, voice stronger and raw with relieved gladness.

For his part, Maui was unprepared for the flood of his own relief that surged at the sound of his friend's voice. It swept through him so fast that he didn't even hesitate. Casting his hook aside, he rushed forward to wrap his arms around as much of Tamatoa's neck as he could reach. "You're okay! I thought—" Maui tried, but couldn't manage to get the words out.

A heavy claw lifted from the sand to wrap around behind him, pressing against Maui in what was the closest the enormous crab could manage to a hug of his own. Together, they stayed in their embrace without saying a word—simply glad to have found each other again.

For the first time in days, Maui allowed himself to smile. His best friend was alive and, together, the two of them were unstoppable. They could fix this.

It was long moments before Maui realized that Tamatoa was shaking—a subtle tremor running through the giant crab in waves. Concerned, he looked up. Tamatoa wasn't looking at him, focused distantly on nothing. There was a haunted look shadowed across his face. "Tamatoa? Uh. Are you okay?"

Tamatoa didn't respond right away, but continued to hold his pincer close against Maui, as if clutching desperately at him despite the wide disparity between their sizes. Dredged up from across a millennia, Maui couldn't help but be reminded of when the crab was young and small, clinging to him after some great fright.

Maui's gaze flitted over his friend in the dim evening light. Tamatoa looked pale and washed out, covered in dull grey ash that hid any trace of glittering shine from his shell. There were darker streaks and splotches of dirt marring his legs, too. The crab looked as miserable and wretched as he'd ever seen him, sure, but something was still off that Maui couldn't quite put his finger on. He frowned, trying to figure it out.

Tamatoa's voice broke into his thoughts, although it was barely a whisper. "There's no way out."

"What?"

"There's no way out," the crab repeated dully. A heavy shudder ran through him, throwing off a light shower of dust. "Everything is gone and there's no way out."

"Everything—?" Maui started, confused. He glanced up again at his friend. Some of the ash had fallen away with the crab's movement, revealing a faint glimpse of purple across his back.

Purple, not gold.

Maui pulled back as much as he could with the crab still pressing against him, trying to get a better look at his friend. Upon closer scrutiny, now he could see that Tamatoa's shell was indeed bare—scraped clean of treasure and covered in scuffs and scratches. Further inspection showed that the dark streaks on his legs were not just smears of dirt, but burns—blackened over an angry red underneath.

Then Maui glanced over at the solid wall where the tunnel to the surface once stood and guilt rose up within him. Tamatoa's home was destroyed, his treasure apparently gone, his stargazing spot cut off, and he had obviously been through some degree of untold horrors in the endlessly long days since this began-since Maui inadvertently caused this.

There was that guilt again, making Maui inwardly squirm. He looked up at his friend, who still stared vaguely at the horizon. If there was anything Maui had learned over the rough course to rebuilding their friendship, it was that he couldn't hide the truth, no matter how ugly, from Tamatoa again.

"Tamatoa," he started with a heavy sigh, fighting back his own reluctance and trying not to fidget. "There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

"Wouldn't you feel better, knowing you were successful?"

Kamapua'a snorted, a snuffling grunt of dismissal. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," came the honeyed reply, "you told me that they're both quite resourceful. What if the demigod made it down there another way?"

He scoffed again, but frowned as the words burrowed in.

"What if they're undoing all your good work right now?" she asked, her voice a soft and speculative murmur.

Kamapua'a stopped his pacing, expression darkening to match the evening sky overhead.

"What if they are-"

"Enough!" he snapped, not wanting to hear any more. "I'd better make _sure_ , yes." He flicked his pigskin cape over his shoulder, a haughty smile growing across his face. "Besides, it'll be fun to watch them suffer."

His companion only smiled, eyes bright in the dark.


	6. Torn and Frayed

For a long moment after Maui finished telling Tamatoa about what had happened with Kamapua'a, the crab was silent. As minutes crawled by, he continued to stare blankly at nothing. Then the eyestalks slowly angled downwards to look upon Maui and the claw curled around him pulled away. The glazed look ebbed from Tamatoa's eyes, replaced with an intensity that, in its silent ferocity, made Maui take an involuntary step back.

The crab's mouth opened, then closed without a word. A beat passed in silence. "You—" Tamatoa began in low and almost strangled tone, cut short as if the word itself was choking him.

The fine hairs rose on the back of Maui's neck, providing a primal warning just a fraction of a second before—

"YOU!" Tamatoa roared, scrambling unsteadily to stand and stirring up a swirling cloud of ash in the process.

Maui took _several_ hasty steps back now, putting a little safe distance between himself and the angry crab. He held up his hands up placatingly. "Now, hold on a minute—"

" _YOU_ did this!"

Despite the fading half-light remaining in the day, a flicker of color lit up across Tamatoa's face. The glowing markings rising up on his features meshed oddly with his still partially-sunlit normal coloration. It was jarring. Maui had only seen Tamatoa's bioluminescence activate in daylight at times when the crab was either absolutely livid or completely terrified.

"Tamatoa, it was an accident. I—" Maui sputtered, trying to regain his footing.

"You _idiot_ ," Tamatoa broke in, his words sharp. "You let that dumb pig-man get the better of you! How could you be so stupid?!"

Maui bristled at the insult, his pride pricked up. His raised palms clenched into fists and he shook one at the crab. "If _you_ hadn't ticked him off in the first place, maybe this wouldn't have happened!" he snapped, eyes narrowing as he glared up at Tamatoa.

The crab snarled something unrepeatable in polite company, punctuating it with a sharp clack of his claws. " _You_ did this, Maui! Not me!" Fury grew on his face, contorting his features. "Look around! Look what you've done!"

Despite himself, Maui did glance around him at what used to be a vibrant and colorful place, full of life. Guilt doused some of his anger, falling upon it like cold water. "We'll fix this," he tried to assure his friend.

Tamatoa wasn't listening. "I've lost _everything!"_ he bellowed, voice twisted into an anguished howl. "My home! My beautiful home! And all my treasure! A lifetime's work! _Everything!"_ The words were coming faster now, pouring out in a rapid-fire deluge. "And I can't just _fly back up to the surface_ like you! This fire—that _you started_ —keeps spreading and _I'm trapped here!_ "

An idea popped into Maui's head. "There's a way out!" he blurted without pausing for even a moment to flesh out that idea, desperate to just get a word in edgewise. And it seemed to work, as Tamatoa's tirade crashed to a sudden halt and he stared at Maui in mute astonishment.

Taking advantage of the momentary break, Maui plowed on ahead—running with that idea and letting it take shape on the fly. "There's still one portal open. That's how I got here!" The crab was still listening, so Maui kept going, feeling more confident in his idea as he went along. "Your old island. You could stay there, just until we figure this out."

As soon as he heard his own words spoken aloud, however, he knew they were a mistake. A guttural, monstrous roar confirmed it. He looked up quickly, only to be confronted by Tamatoa's glowing, color-flashing eyes—wild and half-crazed as they speared him with their gaze.

"That's your _brilliant_ plan? Dump me on that island again?!" the crab snarled, infuriated. "Have you lost your mind?!"

Maui's back stiffened. Hasty suggestion or not, he automatically felt the need to defend it. It was a reasonable idea, after all! "Don't be a fool, Tamatoa! Everything down here is _on fire_ , this is your best option!" he shot back, forging ahead heedlessly. "It's only temporary! Until we—" he stopped himself short, his own words echoing across the centuries uncomfortably.

It was just the break that Tamatoa needed to dive back in, taking an aggressive step towards Maui. "Temporary? _Temporary?!_ " the crab hissed, his voice rising in pitch with every furious word. " _LIKE LAST TIME?!"_

Maui jumped back, startled by the crab's escalating ferocity. Tamatoa's glowing colors were flickering, his claws opening and closing rapidly, grasping at empty air, and his entire body was tense—his movements fast and jerky. Even his antennae were quivering, leaving faint glowing trails in the dim twilight.

Then realization finally hit Maui, crashing over him like a cold wave. Tamatoa was absolutely terrified.

Maui looked up at his friend, who was trembling and wide-eyed, and his own defensive anger melted away. He thought about the devastation he'd flown over on the way here, the wreckage of Tamatoa's home, and the fires still burning relentlessly. He'd only been here half a day, Tamatoa had been dealing with all this for nearly a week. The crab was definitely angry too, but now Maui could see the fear buried under it. Tamatoa was clearly down to his last nerve.

Centuries ago, Maui never would have backed down from this fight, but so much had changed since Moana found him, since he and Tamatoa had reforged their friendship. He truly was a different demigod now.

Fists unclenching, he extended his hands once more, palms open in a gesture of truce. "You're right," he said slowly.

Tamatoa fell silent right as he was about to launch into another insult-heavy verbal barrage. He stared down at Maui, uncertainty creeping into his wild expression.

"Tamatoa," Maui began firmly, using the crab's name in hopes of getting him to focus. "You're right. That was a bad idea."

There was hesitation now in Tamatoa's face, but not enough to keep him from still glaring down at Maui. "You got that right!" The words were fierce, but no blistering epithet or continued tirade followed them.

"Tamatoa," Maui repeated. "I'm sorry. We'll find a different way. No island, I promise. Okay? Tamatoa?" His friend's claws were still raised aggressively, but Maui took a few measured steps forward.

The crab's antennae twitched and he was still scowling, but the apology seemed to break through. "No island," he confirmed.

Putting on an air of calm confidence, Maui closed the distance and craned his neck to look up at his oldest friend. "That's right, you have my word," he assured, hoping that all the hardships which they had endured together would attest to his sincerity now.

Tamatoa met Maui's gaze and held it for a long moment, then the flashing colors drained away from the giant eyes. Letting out a heavy sigh with weariness dragging at his features, the crab gave him significant look. "You know I _can't_ go back to that island, Maui. You know why."

Maui did. They had discussed—or, rather, argued—about this very thing once before. That island, or any island for that matter, couldn't sustain a monster of Tamatoa's size. Marooning him on one again would either result in starvation or—or things Maui didn't want to consider. Things that Maui still hadn't really forgiven Tamatoa for.

Tamatoa had made him a promise, though, to leave the humans in the surface world alone. He'd kept it faithfully, but Maui was under no illusions that the crab would continue to do so if faced with the undeniable prospect of starvation again.

Maui nodded. "I know," he conceded. "We'll just have to put things right here in Lalotai."

Tamatoa said nothing, but his despondent expression spoke volumes.

Maui searched for words of reassurance, finding nothing that could honestly smooth over the magnitude of the problem they were facing. He felt like something was needed here, though, something to at least help put salve on the wound.

Then he remembered what he had brought with him. Reaching down, he withdrew the ancient, pearlescent clamshell from where he had tucked it into the waistband of his _lavalava_. Its intricate carvings caught the pale blue light of Tamatoa's bioluminescence.

"Hey, uh…" he began, words eluding him again.

Tamatoa's eyes swiveled, then blinked. In stunned silence, he stared at the gleaming treasure as Maui turned it over in his hands, fidgeting with it awkwardly.

"I found it on your old island," Maui told him, finally. "I know it's not much, but thought you might like it back." He held it out.

With a delicacy always in sharp contrast to his massive size, Tamatoa reached down with a pincer to carefully take the little trinket from Maui's outstretched hand. He brought it up to his eyes, examining it with a collector's practiced precision. His lip turned up at the corner, ever so slightly.

"I haven't seen this in more than a thousand years," Tamatoa said, a faint note of pleased awe coloring his voice.

Then his eyes turned to look over his shoulder, taking in the bare expanse of his shell, and his face fell—loss painted clearly across it. Eyestalks trembled, but Tamatoa's gaze was clear and steady when he finally looked back to Maui. A heavy moment passed.

"Thank you," he said at last.

Despite it all, a grin spread across Maui's face.

It wasn't lost on Tamatoa, who rolled his eyes. "Quit smiling, I'm still mad at you," he sniffed, making a show of being offended—a show that Maui saw straight through.

In thoughtful silence, the crab regarded the glittering seashell held gently in his massive claw, likely all that remained of his vast treasure hoard. Casting another glance back at his bare shell, layered in ash and grit, Tamatoa sighed.

Maui could only stare, perplexed and confused, as the crab proceeded to hold the trinket back out to him.

"It'll never stick to my shell like this," he said by way of explanation, voice thick. "Keep it safe for me?"

Tamatoa pressed the gleaming seashell into his hand. Stunned, Maui opened his mouth but no sound came out. He nodded, though, and closed his fingers over the precious little treasure. Under the crab's watchful eye, he tucked it carefully back into the tapa folds of his _lavalava._ A bit overwhelmed by the startlingly genuine gesture of trust, it took Maui a moment to finally find his voice. "I'll take good care of it."

* * *

Peering out from a charred cluster of seafans, a pair of small, dark eyes narrowed in dislike at what they had just witnessed. Kamapua'a, well-concealed by the shadows in the shape of a dark-bristled boar, grunted his anger. Not only was the crab—and by the gods, that crab was _huge!_ —still alive, but Maui had somehow managed to find his way down here and reunite with the monstrous creature.

For a moment, it had looked like the two would fight, but that happy prospect had devolved into a disgustingly sappy scene instead. It seemed the rumors were true—the crab and the demigod had indeed mended their friendship.

Kamapua'a scowled. From his own experiences with them and their reputation at large, he knew enough to know that _together_ these two were nigh unstoppable. Isolated, they were weaker, but even then and even as beat up as they appeared, Kamapua'a certainly didn't want to fight them himself. There was no denying he was a highly skilled warrior, but there was also no denying when he was outclassed.

Well, he'd just have to find someone _else_ to fight them.

Silently, he slipped away from the sickeningly tender moment between the two and trotted off into the wilds of Lalotai.

* * *

"Hey, no! Don't touch it!"

"I'm just looking, don't be such a baby."

Tamatoa drew his leg back with an affronted sniff. "Look with your eyes, not those fat little fingers."

Maui smirked up from where he was examining the scorched marks on the ends of Tamatoa's legs, but said nothing and continued checking them over. He kept his hands to himself this time, though.

Some of the blackened char had flaked away, revealing exoskeleton stained red from the blistering heat. They were still sore, painful and tender to walk on, but not debilitating at least. Tamatoa had _told_ Maui he was fine, but the demigod was fussing over him anyway. Not that Tamatoa _minded_ the attention—it was quite nice, after all, to have Maui show a little concern for his well-being. Nevertheless, he drew the line at having the his tender appendages manhandled unnecessarily.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Maui asked for probably the millionth time. "It looks pretty bad."

Well, this was true. It _did_ look bad. It looked ugly, marring his lovely purple colors. And it would stay that way until his next molt, which—since he had just molted barely a year before—would probably mean centuries of having those nasty red splotches marking him up.

Maui, who was beginning to develop a startling amount of perception these days, met his eyes and it seemed as if he knew precisely what Tamatoa was thinking. There was a flicker of guilt across the demigod's expression.

Tamatoa liked attention, but didn't want _pity._ "I'll be _fine_ ," he insisted airily, waving a claw as if to shoo the whole matter away. "Just as soon as we find something to eat, anyway." Better to remind Maui of the _more pressing_ matters. After a week doing nothing but flee desperately from the flames, he was practically starving.

"We'll find you something," Maui assured him. "And we'll figure out how to fix all this, too." The demigod looked up at him, suddenly thoughtful. "Those glowing crystal things in the rocks I told you about. Have you ever seen anything like that down here before?"

Tamatoa quirked an eye. " _Everything_ glows down here, man. But no, I haven't seen anything like that. I'd remember if I did."

Well, honestly, he'd have tried to pry them loose and take them home with him if he had.

"How could just breaking them have unleashed—" Maui waved his hands broadly at everything "—all this?"

Tamatoa wasn't sure. He opened his mouth, intending to say so. Before he could get a word out, though, he paused, antennae twitching. The wind had changed again, sending a hot gust of dry air bearing down upon them. With it came the faint scent of smoke and ash once more. Fear sizzled through Tamatoa.

"Maui," he began, trying to keep his voice steady and failing miserably, "we have to get out of here."

"Huh? Why—"

Then the crackling roar of approaching fire filled the air. In tandem to that harsh crescendo, a bright orange glow began to rise over a nearby ridge.

"Right," Maui said, now cognizant of the danger they were in. "Let's get goi— _HEY!_ "

Startled by the outburst, Tamatoa looked questioningly to Maui, then followed the line of the demigod's gaze when no explanation was immediately forthcoming.

There was a man, standing dramatically not far away in a brazen pose painted with well-practiced self-assurance. A heavy cape whipped around him in the stiff breeze, as if he had chosen his position atop a low, windswept rise in the ground specifically for its theatrical potential.

Tamatoa stared. What was a human doing down here? What was—

"Kamapua'a!" Maui called out, voice filled with fury.

Poised on the ashy hill, the man—no, the _kupua_ —gave them a jaunty wave. "Admiring all your handiwork down here, Maui?" he taunted, sweeping an arm to encompass the burned-out landscape.

"This is _your_ doing!" Maui yelled back. "Not mine!"

The pig-man looked smug, smirking at the devastation all around with such a cavalier attitude that Tamatoa found his claws flexing, itching to crush the pestilent little vermin.

"And not a bad day's work at that," Kamapua'a said with a laugh, before switching a more mocking tone. "Who knew that _Maui, demigod of the wind and sea,_ was so ridiculously gullible?"

Standing beside him, Tamatoa saw Maui bristle at that. The demigod's gaze darted to where his hook lay, tossed aside, in the dust, but he didn't make any move to reach for it yet.

"Then again, just look at the company you keep," he went on, voice dripping with snide derision. "Still letting that overgrown bottom feeder follow you around?"

Tamatoa felt a low growl build in his throat. He was in no mood for this.

Kamapua'a continued on, sneering. "Imagine that, a big, powerful _demigod_ hanging around some dull old _scavenger!_ "

The growl grew louder.

"Just some ugly crab."

That rumbling growl burst forth in an enraged roar as the last frayed thread of Tamatoa's patience—worn thin by a week struggling through this fiery nightmare—snapped. Throwing all caution and sense to the wind, he charged towards the _kupua_.

Kamapua'a grinned. With a burst of green light, a bristly black boar stood in his place on the hill. Quick as a flash, the pig darted into the twisted remnants of incinerated trees.

Behind him, Tamatoa vaguely heard Maui shout something, but he was too furious to care. Fueled by that fury, he thundered after Kamapua'a, snarling dire threats and scathing curses. Tamatoa was hungry and angry and the thought of that treacherous swine's bones crunching between his teeth was enticing—it would make an eminently satisfying resolution to _both_ issues.

The pig was weaving in and out between crusted stumps, nimble and quick. Tamatoa, though, just flat-out charged after him—easily clearing those same obstacles. He was catching up, too. There was little cover in this wasteland and the distance between them was closing steadily. Up ahead, however, there was an enormous coral cavern looming up from a charred reef. Clearly that was where Kamapua'a was aiming to take refuge, but Tamatoa was gaining far too quickly for the little pig to reach it. Just a little farther and he'd have him. He was so close that he could almost taste it.

So intently focused on capturing his quarry, Tamatoa barely noticed the rustle of feathers until the hawk was fluttering urgently around his head. His pace faltered and he swatted at him with a pincer, trying to bat Maui away. This didn't count towards any promises he made! This wasn't some human, it was a scummy supernatural pest who had torched his home. Didn't count!

The pig was getting away, too! He was nearly to the cavern! Ducking his head, Tamatoa barreled past Maui, despite all the avian harassment, and surged after Kamapua'a again, straining to catch back up.

Just as the pig made it to the mouth of the cavern, it suddenly veered right just shy of the shadowed entrance. Startled by the sudden divergence and too close to turn without crashing into massive pillars of stony coral, Tamatoa skidded to a halt just inside the dark cavern—standing in a ring of light softly illuminated by his own bioluminescence.

Growling his frustration, he stamped a foreleg angrily in the dust and prepared to race off after the slippery little _kupua_ again.

There came an answering growl from deep inside the cave.

Antennae jerking up stiffly at the sound, he swiveled his eyestalks to peer into the murky dark. From somewhere in the inky blackness, a gravelly snarl echoed out, reverberating off the coralline walls and ominously shaking silt loose from overhead.

Splitting the darkness, a pair of huge, golden eyes with slit pupils gleamed to life. Tamatoa's own eyes went wide, flashing brightly in alarm.

The rasping snarl grew louder, accompanied by claws scraping against stone as something _very_ large was roused within the cavern. Kamapua'a had lead him into a trap! And Tamatoa, like an idiot, had fallen for it. Bitterly, he supposed he couldn't fault Maui for also falling for the _kupua's_ tricks now.

Frantically scrambling back, he stepped hurriedly out of the cavern just as Maui caught up to him again. There was a flash of blue and the demigod dropped from the air onto Tamatoa's bare shell.

"I told you to wait!" Maui shouted, obviously exasperated. "He's messing with us!"

This was no time for Maui to berate him! Even if maybe he _was_ right. This time. Maybe. Tamatoa waved a claw dismissively. "We've got bigger problems now."

A bugling roar shattered the air, rolling out of the cave like thunder.

Maui's eyes widened, then he let out a weary sigh.

"Of course we do."


	7. Helter Skelter

There weren't many monsters, even in Lalotai, that presented an honest threat to a crab of Tamatoa's size. They were increasingly rare these days, and that suited him just fine. The reptilian behemoth that emerged from the darkened cavern, however, was _definitely_ among them, and Tamatoa's antennae sagged in dismay. The last thing he needed right now, after a week of panicked flight without food or rest, was a serious fight.

And they were clearly in for a serious fight now.

It was a stout-bodied lizard of immense size that loomed up over them, lumbering out of the deeper shadows of the cavern. Despite its low-slung stature, it still stood taller by half than Tamatoa himself and nearly three times as long. It was stocky, with a short, thick neck and sprawling, sturdy limbs tipped in long, sharp claws. Its scaly hide was worn, covered in a network of both old and new scars and more recent burn marks, souvenirs of the catastrophe still tormenting Lalotai. Wickedly curved fangs dripped with frothy spit, parting to reveal a long, forked tongue that tasted the air as the creature sought out the ones who had disturbed its rest.

It didn't take long to find them. Without hesitation, the enormous golden eyes, rimmed in a pale and jaundiced sclera, rolled in their sockets. They brushed past Maui, as if considering such a small human-shaped creature to be beneath its notice, then settled firmly on Tamatoa. The tongue flicked out again.

There was no warning. With a sudden burst of shocking speed that was a sharp contrast to its lumbering movements before, it darted forward.

They had barely the span of a few seconds to react. Distantly he heard Maui shout a warning, but Tamatoa was already in motion. He skittered to the side just in time, dodging the snap of the reptile's jaws by only the thinnest of margins. The teeth had come so close to him that he could feel the creature's breath and the flecks of spittle that splattered across his shell.

Bitterly, Tamatoa wondered why was it always _him_ they went after. Just once, couldn't they target Maui first instead? He was too tired for this fight; far too tired.

Tamatoa was given little time to ruminate on his exhaustion. The creature snapped at him once more, necessitating yet another hasty evasion. The lizard was blindingly fast, moving with quick, darting lunges with barely enough time to think in between. Indeed, it was taking all Tamatoa's energy just to keep one step ahead of the next attack.

Somewhere out in his peripheral vision, he saw a flash of blue light. Maui must have shifted into something, though Tamatoa wasn't sure what. There was no chance to look, though, as he had to flee yet another attack. He needed an opening, but weakened by the past several days, Tamatoa was already sluggish and the lizard wasn't giving him time to do anything but react and dodge. Where was Maui? He could sure use some help right about—

A high, shrill call reached him and his eyes swiveled to see a hawk dive from the sky, streaking towards the lizard's face with talons spread wide. Maui's aim was true and he hit his mark with absolute precision, curving claws scything across one of the monster's gleaming yellow eyes.

There was a horrendous shriek from the lizard and, for the moment, it was distracted as it thrashed and writhed in pain, front leg pawing at its ruined eye.

Seizing the opportunity, Tamatoa leapt forward to make a fast grab for the monster. He was reaching for the tail, a nice safe target that would keep him well away from the more dangerous front end. Unfortunately, the lizard's flailing made that nigh impossible. His claws instead closed upon a powerfully-built hind leg. As soon as his pincers clamped down, the oversized reptile roared with rage. Its head whipped around, glaring murderously at him with its one remaining eye.

In a flash, it was reaching for him, jaws agape. Tamatoa scrambled back, trying to get out of range without letting go. He knew he was too close, though. Just as he was about to let go, there came another piercing hawk's cry. Swooping in once more, Maui shifted midair to his human skin to bat the lizard's head away with his hook, then back to a hawk again to glide out of reach once more.

Despite the danger, Tamatoa managed a weary smile. It really was nice having Maui to back him up and—

His thoughts—and, even tired as he was, he should have known better than to let his mind wander—were interrupted. The leg in his grasp jerked sharply and with such a sudden movement that Tamatoa lost his footing. In an instant he was pulled to the ground, dragged down by his own unrelenting grip and landing with an impact heavy enough to shake loose a shower of dusty ash from the nearby rocks. He heard Maui's shrill battle cry again. The demigod was likely still harrying the lizard and keeping its front end occupied.

Well, back here at the rear end, things were not going particularly swimmingly. Nevertheless, Tamatoa held on, even as the lizard dragged him. His legs, still painfully sore, scraped at the loose ground in an attempt to gain some traction. He had just managed to dig in, bracing up against the earth, when the lizard caught him by surprise again. This time, it twisted its entire body in to a deeply flexed curve, spine drastically bent into an arching s-shape. Then, like a torn sail released by a storm, the lizard unbent itself in a sharp snap.

Unprepared, Tamatoa was flicked deftly off the creature's leg and sent sprawling, landing in an undignified heap against the rocks surrounding the cavern. Dazed, he shook his head to clear it. Just as his eyes refocused, his entire field of vision was filled with teeth and talons. Caught up against the rocks, Tamatoa had no retreat from the swift attack. Clawed forefeet shoved him hard against the stones, pinning him firmly. There was nothing he could do except flinch ineffectively away from the creature's stinking breath as the fangs descended towards his face.

A blur of feathers and light and tattooed skin flashed into view and the closing jaws stopped cold, hanging ominously on either side of his head. Tamatoa blinked, stunned. Maui was wedged in the lizard's mouth, holding it open mere inches from what would have surely been a fatal snap. A dollop of foamy spit dripped off the fangs onto him. Still dazed, Tamatoa just stared dumbly at the scene. Hadn't Maui done that to _him_ once? How odd that—

"Tama—" Maui gritted out through great strain, intruding into his somewhat disjointed thoughts. "Would you—gah—maybe—hurry it up?"

Prodded out of his stupor, Tamatoa ducked his head out of the lizard's jaws and reached up to grab its exposed throat. Putting all his strength behind his claws, he squeezed. The creature's neck was thick with ropey muscle, but even it could only withstand the steady onslaught of Tamatoa's claws for so long. There was a thin, wheezing whine from the creature, then he felt the sturdy bones give way with a satisfying series of cracking pops. Expelling its final breath, the massive reptile sagged and went still, slumping heavily down onto Tamatoa in death.

Tamatoa loosened his grip, shoving the creature off him. It fell with a ponderous thud, kicking up swirls of ash from the ground. Still reeling and a bit disoriented from the fight, Tamatoa regarded the dead creature numbly, staring blankly at it while his legs trembled under him. Then he remembered his hunger, which made itself known with an overwhelmingly insistent vehemence. After a week without so much as even a scavenged scrap of food, he was starving; and here, at last, was a feast. Eyes bright with a sudden, feral gleam, he reached eagerly for his kill—

"Ugh! Disgusting!"

His pincers paused and he swiveled his eyestalks to look. Maui was stumbling out of the dead thing's jaws, wiping foamy saliva out of his hair and frowning at the lizard spit with revulsion. He was all scuffed up and Tamatoa scented a tantalizing whiff of iron-rich blood. His hunger spiked again. Caught up in a sweeping tumult of monstrous instinct, he stared down at the demigod with a wolfish intensity, but recognition eluded him. In that brief, delirious, _ravenous_ moment, all he saw was more potential prey, although some quiet, confused thing deeper within his mind urgently insisted otherwise.

Still grousing about his hair, Maui looked up finally and met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. Then the brow furrowed. "Tamatoa? You okay?"

It was the note of concern—or was it unease?—in his friend's voice that broke through to him. Tamatoa blinked rapidly. "Uhh—"

"Hey," Maui went on brightly, "I said we'd find you something to eat, didn't I? And here it is!" He made a broad gesture towards the dead lizard monster, smiling smugly and tacking on a trademark, sing-song: "You're welcome."

Tamatoa flicked his antennae stiffly, trying to center himself as he threw off the unbidden, conflicting urges. He felt shaky and off-balance all of the sudden. The fight must have taken more out of him than he realized. He looked back to his friend, who surely must have recognized what had lurked behind that intense gaze. Awkward, he started to say something, but was swiftly cut off.

This time when Maui spoke, the cheeky bravado was replaced by sincere and startlingly astute concern. "Hey, you've had a rough week. Eat, then rest. We'll sort everything else out in the morning." He aimed a thumb over his shoulder to the now vacant cavern with a smirk. "That lizard won't be needing this place anymore. You sleep, I'll keep watch out here. We'll take shifts. Like—" and here Maui gave him a lopsided grin "—the old days."

Tamatoa stared. Centuries ago, the demigod could never have pulled his head out of his rear long enough to realize that something was wrong with such clarity—nor deal with it with such surprising tact. Indeed, Maui really had changed; but then, Tamatoa mused, so had he. It wasn't that long ago that those fateful words would have sent Tamatoa into a rage, but now he received them warmly. "Like the old days," he echoed with a weary, but genuine smile.

* * *

Maui sat cross-legged by the cavern's entrance with his hook across his lap, watching the first soft rays of morning sunlight begin to filter through the watery sky overhead. A gentle haze of pink and orange tinted the sea in a surreal sunrise that could only be experienced in Lalotai. He'd come to appreciate these unusual, but beautiful quirks of the Realm of Monsters in the time he'd spent here since mending his friendship with Tamatoa. But now that peculiarly lovely sunrise illuminated a realm devastated by his own mistake. In the rosy light of dawn, the landscape looked grey and desolate—pale and washed out where once it was brilliantly colored and vibrant with life. The sight filled him with guilt and Maui fervently hoped he could find a way to set it all right again.

He looked away from the burned out wreckage, gaze drifting back to where Tamatoa was sleeping in the massive cavern. The crab was a wreck—scorched and battered physically, worn thin and frayed mentally. Maui hadn't failed to notice the wild look in his friend's eyes after they had killed the lizard. The predatory gleam had turned upon him with such disturbing force that it had made Maui more than just a touch unsettled. The crab had seemed to remember himself fairly quickly, but it was the second time in the span of a only few hours that Maui had needed to talk the crab down from some fragile and precarious edge. For that, however, Maui had to admit some degree of responsibility for as well. He'd caused this mess and his friend had been swept up in it.

Hopefully food and rest would level Tamatoa out, though. The crab had clearly been famished and utterly exhausted. After gorging himself on the remains of the lizard monster—Maui had politely declined an offer to share in that meal—Tamatoa had stumbled blearily into the cave and, after a few mumbled thanks, promptly fallen asleep. He was back there still, sleeping heavily.

They should probably get moving soon. A change in the wind overnight had kept the flames back from their temporary safe haven, but the firestorm could return at any time. For the moment, though, they were reasonably safe and Maui figured it was best to let Tamatoa sleep a bit longer.

Tamatoa actually looked rather peaceful, the tension from earlier eased from his face in sleep. The crab's bioluminescent markings were starting to fade as daylight crept into the cavern. It was only once that ubiquitous blue glow began to dissipate that Maui noticed a competing glow from somewhere deeper within the cavern, past the massive bulk of the slumbering crab. He squinted into the shadows, but couldn't make out the source.

Maui stood to get a closer look, moving as quietly as possible to avoid waking Tamatoa. He needn't have worried: the crab's antennae were draped limply on the ground and didn't so much as twitch as Maui stepped past them. He really was out cold. Maui felt a twinge of sympathy as he crept by.

It didn't take him long to find the source of the light. A series of stone pillars were huddled in the back of the cavern—flattened slabs of stone standing upright in the dirt like giant frozen canoe sails. They were several times Maui's own height and were grouped in a half-circle that towered over him like a cadre of stern village elders, staring down to pronounce judgement upon him.

Curious, he stepped towards them. Up close, he could see that they were dirty, covered in dust and overgrown with moss. Despite that, a pale glow peeked out from under the layer of grime. The muted light was uneven and mottled, as if coming from multiple locations. The dirt obscured most of it, however, making it hard to tell what exactly was up there.

Maui took a step back to take in the whole picture again. As he considered the stones, a thought struck him: Maybe these were similar to the crystal-crossed monolith he had mistakenly damaged to cause all this! And if so, maybe he could fix them here! Spirits buoyed by that prospect, Maui approached them again and reached up to try and brush some of the dirt off the glowing lights.

All of the glowing places, however, were higher up on the pillars than Maui could possibly reach from the ground. Undeterred, he laid his hook down and stepped up to the nearest pillar. He took a quick glance to size it up, then started to climb.

The pillars were mostly smooth and offered no handholds, but after centuries of climbing masts slick with sea spray Maui had little trouble shimmying up these stones. Once high enough to touch the nearest glowing spot on the flattened rock face, he held his breath and reached out to brush the concealing dirt away, hoping to see a familiar line of crystal. The dirt fell away easily, cascading down in a shower of dust, revealing a brighter splash of illumination.

Maui let his breath out in a disappointed huff.

It wasn't a vein of crystal. No, instead it was some sort of carving. Thin lines were deeply cut into the slab of stone. Filling the roughly hewn channels was a thick growth of light blue bioluminescent algae. It clung to his fingertips as he ran them over the glowing lines.

Maui frowned. What was this? With only a tiny place cleared of gunk, it was impossible to see what the carving depicted. Gripping the edge of the slab with his legs, Maui reached farther onto the face of the pillar to brush more dirt and moss away. He could almost reach the next spot, just a little further. He stretched his fingers—

—and then promptly lost his grip.

With a surprised shout, he tumbled down from the pillar and landed heavily—with yelp of pain this time—on the cavern floor.

Tiptoeing past the crab might not have been enough to wake him up, but this certainly was. Antennae jerked up off the ground, perking up to sudden alertness, and the great eyes opened swiftly, though not without a touch of lingering bleariness. "Maui?"

"Ugh," Maui said with a groan. "Yeah."

"What are you doing?" Tamatoa asked, an eye quirked quizzically.

Maui picked himself up from the ground, knocking the dirt off himself. He paused before answering, looking at Tamatoa thoughtfully. The crab had an uncanny way of knowing random details about all sorts of lore and treasure. Maybe that included these pillars.

"There's some weird glowing carvings in here. You know anything about them?"

Tamatoa squinted. "Carvings? What kind of carvings?"

"Back there," Maui began, indicating the pillars with a wave of his hand. "On the pillars. Not sure what they are."

There was a scraping against stone as Tamatoa got slowly to his feet. He joined Maui by the stones, peering at them curiously. "Not much to look at."

"Yeah, they're covered up with crud," Maui told him. "Was trying to clean them off."

The crab threw him a smirk. "You mean when you fell on your a—"

"Yeah, yeah," Maui cut him off with a snort of feigned annoyance. Honestly, though, Maui was relieved to see the crab was back to snarking. Given the state he'd found Tamatoa in, this was a good sign.

"Here," Tamatoa said, "let's do it this way. The _smart_ way." With a teasing grin, he lowered a pincer down to Maui.

Maui couldn't help but laugh as he climbed onto the offered claw.

* * *

After a good meal and a long nap, Tamatoa was feeling far steadier than he had since he had awoken to his home falling apart around him. Moreover, Maui was here with him now and that gave him at least some comfort despite the disaster still unfolding across the beleaguered realm.

Together, they had cleared away much of the grime from the ancient stone slabs. As they had worked, Tamatoa had snuck surreptitious glances at Maui. The demigod hadn't made any mention of Tamatoa's little _faux pas_ the night before—that brief moment where, frazzled and overwhelmed and desperately hungry, Tamatoa's control had slipped. He had been _sure_ that Maui would bring it up. After all, their friendship may be mended, but it was not without some hiccups. And their conflicts frequently centered around Maui still trying to impose rigid human mores on Tamatoa, a monster.

But Maui had not said a word this time. There had been no accusations or disapproving looks. Tamatoa wasn't sure what to think about that. There was no time to dwell on that, though, not when they were presented with another, more intriguing mystery.

The pillars were covered in pictographs. Carved symbols and images decorated the front of the smooth stone slabs, glowing with collected algae. Some were so old and worn down by eons of damp air and mossy growth that discerning them was next to impossible. However, others were still clear and distinct despite the ravages of time.

Many of the still-visible symbols were simple in nature, utilizing a style similar to, but pre-dating even Maui's tattoos. In truth, they were really more akin to the primitive, thin-lined patterns adorning Maui's fish hook. It was an old, distinct style that was thousands of years older than the designs currently in vogue.

Mostly they were uncomplicated spirals, uneven triangles, and other plain patterns, but interspersed between these abstractions were more detailed carvings depicting figures and scenes.

"Is that—" Maui said slowly, breaking into Tamatoa's thoughts. "Is that Te Fiti?"

The demigod was standing on the edge of Tamatoa's shell, giving him the extra height he needed to examine the carvings that decorated the tall pillars. Tamatoa curved his eyestalks to look, too.

Depicted on the stone slab was a figure, undeniably female and reasonably human-shaped, with a spiral shape set in the middle of her chest. Tamatoa had, thankfully, never had any direct interaction with the legendary mother goddess, but he nevertheless recognized the familiar symbols associated with her. The humans adorned innumerable tapa cloth tapestries with her visage and Tamatoa, raised on the surface, had seen enough of them to know what he was looking at.

He dipped an antennae in assent. "Looks like it," he agreed, then his lip turned down in a thoughtful frown as he looked closer.

All around the image of Te Fiti were dozens of carved monsters. Numerous and varied, they were shown in all shapes and sizes—lizards, birds, spiders, turtles, bats, and more. And every one of the creatures had fangs or claws on full display.

"They must have attacked her," Maui mused, reaching out to brush some more moss away from the stone to reveal more monstrous images.

Tamatoa didn't reply right away. His eyes fell on one of the pictographs exposed by Maui's latest efforts. It was a crab. And not just any old crab, but one shaped like himself. For a long moment, he stared wordlessly at the carving—the only reference to his long vanished kind he'd ever seen down here. Some elusive wisp of a thought pulled at him, but slipped away before it could solidify.

"I'm not so sure," he murmured, his frown deepening.

Maui snorted. "Looks pretty straightforward to me," he asserted. Then he shrugged. "But not very helpful. I thought there might be something more to them, but this is just old graffiti."

Reluctantly, Tamatoa tore his gaze away from the crab drawing and looked back to Maui. "Did you check the other side?"

"The other side?"

"Yeah, the back. What's on the back?"

"Oh." Sheepish, Maui rubbed at the back of his neck. "I didn't look."

Close as the pillars were to the back of the cavern, Tamatoa couldn't get behind them to have a look for himself. So, instead, he held a claw out to Maui, who hopped on, and angled it as best he could so that Maui could see. Standing at ease on Tamatoa's massive pincer, his friend examined them for a few moments, scraping dirt away with his hands.

"Huh."

Tamatoa's antennae pricked up, curious. "What is it?"

The demigod didn't answer right away, still feeling along the back of the stone slab.

"Well?" Tamatoa prompted, impatient at being made to wait.

"Huh," he repeated again, though now there was a teasing note to it. Tamatoa couldn't believe it, Maui was _messing_ with him. At a time like this! He huffed his annoyance.

"I could drop you, you know," Tamatoa deadpanned, giving his claw a little jiggle.

Maui laughed and, despite it all, Tamatoa couldn't help but crack a smile. And Maui gave him a lopsided smile in return. "Well, I think we may be on to something. Those crystals that I—er—" His smile wavered. "—that I accidentally broke? Well, there's more of them on these stones."

Tamatoa's antennae tipped forward. "Really? Are they glowing?"

Maui shook his head. "Nope. But I think they must be connected." He paused, thoughtful, then his eyes lit up. "Hey, weren't there some of these by your place, too?"

At the mention of his destroyed home, Tamatoa felt his insides twist. He didn't need the reminder that his home of more than a thousand years was a ruin, damaged beyond all repair.

Maui was carrying on, oblivious. "Maybe they're all connected. We should—"

Something must have shown on Tamatoa's face, or maybe it was the slight tremor that ran through his claw, but Maui stopped suddenly and gave him an apologetic look. "Hey, Tamatoa," he began. "Look, I—"

Tamatoa flicked an antenna, aiming for casual dismissal. The anger had long bled away by now, but there was still something to be said and now was as good a time as any. And unlike the previous night, where Tamatoa had been on the very edge of his sanity, he now felt steady enough to have this conversation. With a sigh, he moved his claw closer to his face, bringing Maui to eye level.

"How could you let that pig get the better of you like that?"

Maui slumped, flopping heavily down to sit on Tamatoa's pincer. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it was accompanied by a listless shrug. "I don't know, I just made a mistake."

Tamatoa quirked an eye, skeptical. "A mistake?"

Maui shifted uncomfortably, looking away. "It's just—" He hesitated, but Tamatoa simply waited. From the look on Maui's face, a flood was imminent.

And then the words began to flow. "I didn't recognize him. He said he needed help. He asked me to help him."

It was a familiar refrain and one that had caused more than its fair share of problems for them. Tamatoa tried to keep his bitterness from showing on his face.

Then Maui turned back to meet his eyes. "They don't ask anymore. The mortals," he said, uncharacteristically despondent. It reminded Tamatoa of the day, so many centuries ago, when Maui had finally told him the real story behind the tattoo on his back. "I've been gone too long and they don't need me anymore."

There it was. Tamatoa had suspected that Maui was having a difficult time adjusting to a world one thousand years changed, but this only confirmed it.

"I thought—" Maui paused. "I just wanted—" He picked at the ragged, torn edge of his _lavalava_. "I wanted to help, but I'm useless to them now. They have everything they need. There's no great heroic deeds left to do, there's no monsters to fight or great feats to achieve. They don't need heroes anymore." He glanced down at the tattoo of Moana on his chest. "They have their own now."

Tamatoa wanted to be angry that Maui's lingering self-worth issues had caused _so much_ trouble yet _again_ , but he couldn't find it in himself to be so infuriated. It wouldn't do any good, anyway. It wouldn't bring back the things he'd lost—which was just about everything.

Well, actually, maybe he hadn't lost _everything_.

He looked at Maui, still sitting on his claw and looking just about as sorry and miserable as Tamatoa had ever seen him. Part of him wanted to just pinch some sense into his friend, but this probably wasn't the time for that. Later, maybe. But for now, he'd try a more delicate approach.

"Maui," he said slowly, choosing his words with great care. "The humans may be taking care of themselves these days, but, if you haven't noticed, _Lalotai_ could sure use a hero right now."

Maui met his eyes again and an old look passed between them—an unspoken acknowledgement that could only come from a friendship that had spanned uncountable centuries and survived unimaginable hardships.

Finally, Maui's stormy, miserable expression began to dissipate. Arching an eyebrow, he worked up the beginnings of a wry smile. "Why, Tamatoa, how sentim—"

Tamatoa rolled his eyes and gave his claw a sharp shake, cutting off what Maui must have thought was the beginning of a very witty rejoinder. "Don't ruin it, man," he chided.

Having clearly snapped Maui out of his doldrums, Tamatoa pressed on. He didn't want to waste any more time, not when the terrifying firestorms could blow back their way at any moment. "So, you think these stones are connected? Well, let's go find out."

* * *

A dark shape, low to the ground and darkly bristled, clung to the shadows near the cavern's entrance, listening to all that transpired. Kamapua'a, skulking in the shape of a pig, suppressed a snarl.

They had survived yet _another_ thing and, rather than turn upon each other as he'd hoped given what he'd heard about their falling out, they stubbornly refused to do so. Worse still, they had stumbled across something concerning—something he hadn't considered.

He needed some backup on this. Kamapua'a was clever, but these two continually defied his best efforts. If he wanted to get revenge, he was going to have to get help.

With that, he slipped away from the cavern just as the crab and the demigod emerged, and vanished soundlessly into the wilderness.


	8. Ashes to Ashes

It was dark on the island, the stars blotted out by a thick layer of clouds, when Kamapua'a returned.

"So," a smug, sultry voice greeted him. "Was it all aflame? Did you get what you wanted?"

"Well, it _is_ on fire," Kamapua'a began.

Then the _kupua_ hesitated, perhaps a moment too long. The silence stretched out expectantly, adding still more unwanted weight to what he was about to say.

"But they live," he finally admitted, wincing with the sting of that failure.

Surprisingly, she laughed—a high, melodic sound. "They're resilient, these enemies of yours. I think I like them."

Kamapua'a's eyes narrowed, burning with anger. "You mock me, woman?"

She smiled easily, blithely unintimidated by his seething. "Your petty grudge over some long-past minor slight is amusing," she said, syrup in her voice. "But it's of little concern to me."

He bristled. Where did she get the nerve to speak to him, _Kamapua'a_ , that way?! She hadn't dared to speak to him this way before! What had gotten into her? Spine stiffening, he leveled a finger at her. "Listen here, woman, you said you were going to help. And your tricks with fire weren't enough to get the job done, so I had to lead them to some monster to pick up your slack. But they defeated that and then they found some ancient pillars connected to those stones and—"

She was on her feet in a flash, so quickly that Kamapua'a took an involuntary step back. It made little difference, though, for she was soon right in his face just the same. The sudden, fierce intensity in her gaze was enough to make him falter.

"What. Have. You. Done?" she demanded, dropping each word like a fiery brand.

"I—uh—" He flinched back, unsettled by the shocking change in her demeanor. Where was the soft, compliant bedmate he had known?

She leaned in closer, eyes glinting in the firelight that seemed to flare with her temper. "Well?" she prompted, a dangerous impatience already seeping into her tone.

Finding himself unexpectedly intimidated, Kamapua'a stumbled for words. Some deeper impulse towards self preservation arose and subdued any thought of challenging this suddenly fiery woman.

When he finally found his tongue, he told her everything.

* * *

The path to the obelisks was familiar, even if warped nearly beyond recognition by the flames. Even so, the way had been difficult and more than once they had been forced to take circuitous detours to avoid hellish fires that still raged, burning the very soil itself in the absence of foliage to consume.

Soon enough they saw the spouts of geysers in the distance. The obelisks weren't far now, just a ways further past those geysers.

But first they had to pass by something else.

Tamatoa thought he was prepared. He thought he could handle it. But despite all his efforts, the sight pressed upon him like a heavy weight.

Tamatoa looked emptily at the devastation that had been his home. What rubble was left after the shaking split it apart had been burned to the very sand. Ash curled off the cinders in the light breeze.

Tamatoa had lived here for more than a thousand years. He had defended it against all manner of challengers—and, being a primo piece of real estate, there had been many! Beautiful, grand, spacious, and with its own automatic food source, it was the perfect home for him.

And then there were his treasures! The very thought sent a sharp pang of grief running through him. They weren't just _trinkets_ , even if that's all _Maui_ saw them as. They were memories—a lifetime of them. Beautiful, sparkling reminders of where he had been, the adventures he'd gone on, and the battles he had fought. Many had tried to steal it from him over the centuries, witless fools who had thought themselves a match for him. Tamatoa had made snacks out of them all—out of anyone who had dared steal from him—and taken _their_ treasures in return, adding still more to his glittering hoard.

That treasure had made him special, made him more than just a crab. It had showed the world that _Tamatoa_ had done amazing things, just as Maui's tattoos did for him.

And it was all gone now. His treasure was gone. His home was gone. He felt so lost. Even if they could somehow stop the destruction ravaging Lalotai, he still had nothing left. He—

Maui's voice broke into his thoughts, halting their downward spiral.

"How did you manage to get out of this mess?" he asked. "When I found it like this, I thought—" He trailed off, but what he left unsaid was perfectly clear.

Tamatoa's antennae stiffened and he wrenched himself free of his rising misery to consider the question. How _had_ he survived this? That whole morning was such a blur.

"I—" Tamatoa hesitated. "I don't know."

"How can you _not know?_ "

He squinted, trying to fish through the fuzzy memories. "I remember—"

There had been fire, flames reaching hungrily for him. Crushing weight pressed around him on all sides, immobile.

"—I remember being trapped—"

Clawing his way out, flashes of his own bioluminescence in the dark while the world thundered and continued to quake and burning heat chased after him. Barely escaping the clawing fingers of flame.

"—I must have somehow pulled myself out—"

Then breaking free into the smoky air. Collapsing by the geysers, their tepid mist keeping the fire at bay.

"—I should probably be dead."

Why did that itch at his mind so much? Something felt weird about the whole thing. He _shouldn't_ have survived that, but he had. Now that he thought about it, the idea nagged at him relentlessly.

He flicked his eyes back to Maui, hoping his thoughts weren't written plainly on his face.

The demigod was giving him a long, considering look. Tamatoa's antennae fidgeted.

"Well, you are one lucky crab," Maui said finally, giving none of his own thoughts away for once. He was smiling in his usual lazy, easy-going way, but the speculative look didn't leave his eyes.

Tamatoa opened his mouth to say something more, but, after a long pause, changed his mind and looked away. Seeking a distraction, his gaze drifted idly over the rubble of his home once more.

A glint of shine in the ash caught his eye. Had something survived? Could his treasures be buried in the dust, just waiting for him to pull them free. Without a second thought, he took a step towards it.

"Don't," Maui's voice cut in.

His head whipped around. "What?"

"Don't go digging. It's not going to do you any good," Maui told him flatly.

"My stuff might be in there!" Tamatoa replied sharply, annoyance lacing his tone.

The look Maui gave him was one that Tamatoa _hated_. It was a look of _pity_. And pity was just contempt by another name as far as Tamatoa was concerned. He narrowed his eyes.

"Just leave it," the demigod entreated. "It's only going to make you feel worse."

Tamatoa elected to ignore him. What did Maui know, anyway? He turned away, over Maui's protests, and stepped amid the debris. Reaching down, he began to sift through the ash.

His claws slid through the ash with no resistance. There was little but dust left there, stirred into thick clouds as he disturbed it. Surely there must be something, though. Surely some trinket, some glittering treasure, some pearly little shell.

He worked harder, gouging deep ruts in the rubble with his pincers. Moving faster, digging deeper. Surely something remained. He could have sworn he saw a glimmer of something. Where was it? Where?

But there was nothing. Every desperate stroke of his claws shoveled more aside, but it was no use. He wasn't going to give up, though, he was _sure_ there was something there. He just had to—

"Tamatoa."

Maui's voice was uncharacteristically gentle, coming from just beside him. A small hand touched his leg.

Mind awhirl, he stopped and his eyes jerked around to look at Maui. The demigod's face was surprisingly strained, lined with worry.

"Tamatoa," Maui repeated with a steady, placating tone at odds with his concerned expression. "There's nothing left. You've got to let it go."

Tamatoa felt a snarl build in his throat. His claws tightened. He wanted to lash out, wanted to snap angrily. Not so long ago, he would have done just that and without hesitation.

"Tama. C'mon, buddy."

He stared down at Maui for a long moment. Then his eyes strayed back to the ash.

"Tamatoa."

He looked back to Maui again.

Tamatoa had spent so much time alone, with only his treasures for company. Centuries upon centuries had been lost in utter isolation, with just the gleam of gold to comfort him.

But not any more. He had rebuilt his friendship with Maui and they had come through unimaginable hardship along the way. If they could rebuild that friendship—which had been so seemingly damaged beyond repair—surely they could rise out of these ashes too.

He turned away from the wreckage of his home.

Tamatoa straightened, relaxing his clenched claws, and gave his antennae a flick. "The obelisks are that way. Let's get moving," he said lightly, determined to appear collected even in the face of a moment of weakness.

He started off briskly, but not so briskly that he could miss the look of relief that washed over Maui's face before the demigod hurried to follow along.

* * *

It was an odd feeling, genuinely worrying about someone other than himself. It wasn't _entirely_ new, of course. He'd always worried after the humans; though, until he met Moana, he had always seen them more as one big, homogenous mass—not as individuals. And when he and Tamatoa had been younger, he'd had at least a nominal interest in making sure the crab was okay. It never went very far or very deep in those days, though.

Things were different now, though. The path he'd started down after meeting Moana had lead him here. But, after a couple thousand years of being wrapped up in his own self-interest, Maui was still getting used to this experience of honestly being concerned with the well-being of his friend.

Of course, he'd never seen Tamatoa quite this shaken, either. He glanced at the giant crab, striding alongside him with purposeful, but conspicuously quiet, steps. Tamatoa did seem to be doing better now, not nearly as rattled as he'd been when Maui found him. It was slow progress, but steady.

His eyes drifted over his friend. Tamatoa wasn't looking quite so beat up now, either. The bright red color that stained his lower legs was beginning to fade and recede, looking less… well... like he'd been _cooked_ and more like his normal shades of purple.

"Hey, looks like your burns are healing pretty well," he commented offhand. Then he added, "You'll be back to your fabulous self in no time." After all, a little properly applied praise usually brought the crab around.

As expected, Tamatoa's antennae perked and he grinned. "Well, of course I—"

Then he stopped—both stopped talking _and_ stopped walking. He jerked to a halt and turned to squint at Maui.

"Wait, what?"

Well, that wasn't the reaction Maui expected. Confused, he repeated himself, "I just said you'd be back to your fabul—"

"Not that," the crab cut him off. "The other thing."

Maui shrugged, still perplexed. "The burns are healing well?"

"That's ridiculous. And that's _not_ how it works," Tamatoa told him firmly. "Exoskeleton doesn't just _heal_." He raised one of his legs, as if in demonstration. "I'll have to molt again to fix thi—"

Then the crab looked down at his leg. He shut up immediately, mouth snapping shut so fast it was almost comedic, and frowned. The burned area _was_ noticeably improved, there wasn't any denying it. Maui felt vindicated.

"That's—" Tamatoa murmured. "—that's not possible."

"Apparently it is." Maui smirked, unable to resist teasing his friend. "Told you so."

Tamatoa didn't respond, staring at his leg in baffled silence. Then he turned to inspect the others, examining them closely. Those too were, of course, also starting to heal.

Rather than being pleased, though, the crab looked troubled. Maui couldn't, for the life of him, understand why.

"What's the big deal?" he asked. "It's a good thing, right?"

Tamatoa dragged his eyes away from his legs and back to Maui. "That's not how this is supposed to work," he said, canting an eye oddly. "That's not how any of this works."

Maui shrugged again. He was pretty sure the crab was getting worked up over nothing. "Yeah, but you've never been burned by fire before. So maybe this _is_ how it works?"

"Exoskeleton doesn't just heal," Tamatoa repeated, though he sounded uncertain now.

"Hey, don't question a good thing!" Maui said with an easy smile.

Clearly, though, the crab _was_ still questioning it. His face was scrunched up, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Tamatoa wasn't done with the subject, that much was obvious.

But it would have to wait.

"Oh hey, there's the obelisks!"

They had arrived.

* * *

Kamapua'a had never seen her so enraged, so absolutely furious and he was utterly unprepared for the force of it. Baffled by her sharp change in demeanor, he was left at a loss for what to do.

"You fool," she hissed viciously at him, pacing restlessly in her fury. "You're such a fool that you have no idea what you've even done!"

"I-" he tried to get a word in towards his own defense, but she was having none of it.

She whirled back on him, glaring at him with searing intensity. "All you've done is _help_ them through your stupidity!"

"Keahi, I-"

She turned from him again, striding away and deaf to his excuses. "It was a mistake sending _you_ ," she spat in disgust.

Then she stopped her incessant pacing, a shrewd light entering her eyes.

"I'll just have to send someone else."

* * *

The obelisks had stood here as long as Tamatoa could remember, marking the entry to Lalotai from the ancient portal overhead.

He looked up. The portal was gone, no magical shimmer of purple lingered overhead anymore—destroyed, just like the terrain around them. What was once a lush garden of glowing purple tube sponges and neon tentacle palms and low slung coralline bushes was now scorched to the bedrock, devoid of all life and burned black. The ground, which once glowed with arcane symbols in bioluminescent blue, was dark and bare.

The obelisks still stood, although their bright aqua markings were long gone. The flames had burned them away, leaving behind only shallow channels in the oblong stones. Oddly, the channels left behind in the scorched pillars didn't match the simple, geometric designs which had once illuminated them. Tamatoa leaned closer to get a better look.

"See something?"

He swiveled an eye to look at Maui, who stood on his shell once again.

"They're different now," he told his friend. He turned back to the carvings with a speculative eye. "Maybe these were hidden under the other ones." He squinted at them. "Too much gunk on them to tell for sure."

"Get me closer?" Maui requested.

Obligingly, Tamatoa held out a claw for the demigod, who hopped easily on. With Maui aboard, he brought his pincer alongside the largest pillar. Maui, dutifully doing his part once again, started brushing ash from the carvings just as he had the last ones. In no time, they had the majority of it exposed.

They pulled back to consider this latest mural before them.

These carvings were very old, likely far older than the ones they had seen in the lizard's cave. The style was unspeakably primitive, yet still clearly kin to the ones they had seen before. The lines were faint, though, barely visible in the hoary old stones.

One figure was instantly recognizable, though. Once again, the image of Te Fiti dominated the carvings. The mother goddess was depicted as smiling a peaceful and beatific smile. Above her, waving lines rippled like the underside of the sea that hung over Lalotai. Her hands were extended, palms open, and palm trees—tentacle palm trees—emerged around her.

Tamatoa blinked, antennae sweeping up stiffly. Had—had Te Fiti _created_ Lalotai? He had never considered where Lalotai had come from. Sure, it was ancient, older than anyone really knew, but there was no one around to tell its secrets. The few monsters he'd found that could (or would) speak had precious little to say about Lalotai's history and most, like those weird spider ladies he'd encountered over the centuries, were typically quite cryptic.

He looked closer, eyes curving closer to the stones, eager to find out more.

But the rest was lost. The carvings were heavily eroded, gradually fading into smooth stone until they disappeared entirely. Little was discernible in the scene beyond that initial pictograph of Te Fiti herself.

His eyes sagged in disappointment.

"Hey, check this out!" Maui's voice intruded on his thoughts.

The demigod was examining another set of carvings, these more distinct and less eroded than those of Te Fiti.

"It's another set of obelisks!" Maui proclaimed, quite proud of himself.

Tamatoa looked closer. It was indeed a carving of more stone pillars. And next to them, was that—

"Those are the upside-down whirlpools," Tamatoa blurted in surprise.

Maui arched a brow. "The ones you were gonna show me?"

The ones he was going to show Maui on this trip—this time they were supposed to be spending together on a pleasant little vacation of sorts. Tamatoa felt a twinge of loss.

"Well," Maui went on brightly, as if their original plans hadn't been utterly ruined. "We'll get to see them now! That'll be our next stop!"

Maui sounded as chipper as if this was just another adventure. Perhaps it was just an adventure for him, although Tamatoa had begun to suspect that the demigod was keeping up the appearance of good cheer for Tamatoa's benefit. Maui's enthusiasm was infectious, though, and he couldn't help but grin a lopsided smile.

"Well, look at this," he told Maui, moving his claw until the demigod was even with the other carvings. "You're all buddy-buddy with Te Fiti, right?" Tamatoa prompted. "Did _she_ create Lalotai?"

"She—uh—doesn't _talk_ much," Maui said, awkwardly picking at the frayed edge of his tapa cloth _lavalava_. "Much less explain things." He sounded almost rueful and Tamatoa wondered why.

That was a question for later, though. For now, Maui needed to see these carvings. "Well," Tamatoa told him, "that's certainly what it _looks_ like here." Insistent, he moved his claw closer still to the obelisks, making _sure_ Maui was giving them proper consideration.

Maui flashed him a mildly annoyed look at having his own musings interrupted, but turned his attention to the stones nevertheless. He took his time examining them and Tamatoa's antennae fidgeted impatiently.

"Hmm."

Tamatoa quirked an eye. "Well?"

"I dunno," Maui began, his expression doubtful as he turned to face Tamatoa again. "Why would Te Fiti create a bunch of monsters?"

Tamatoa's antennae jerked stiffly up and he drew his head back at Maui's dismissive tone. He fixed the demigod with a narrow-eyed, affronted glare. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, I mean—" he began confidently enough, but when met Tamatoa's eyes, he faltered. "Er—I just—"

Tamatoa met his floundering with a flat, deadpan stare.

"Sorry," Maui said at last, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't—um—mean it like that. I just thought—uh—Te Fiti was only interested in—you know— _surface stuff_."

It was a weak excuse, but Maui's delivery was sheepish enough that Tamatoa was willing to accept it. Maui had quickly apologized, too, and that was a big step for the demigod. So, Tamatoa let it go. This time. For now.

Still, he had to make his point. " _We_ —" and he stressed the word, to ensure Maui remembered who and what he was talking to, "—monsters had to come from _somewhere_ , man. Why not from Te Fiti?" He gave the demigod a pointed look, daring him to challenge the idea.

Maui opened his mouth to respond right away, then closed it. After a moment of what appeared to be actual _thought_ , he spoke up. "Okay, well _maybe_." He didn't sound convinced, but he also didn't argue further.

"I think it's a perfectly reasonable theory," Tamatoa pressed, eyeing Maui to gauge his reaction to the subtle goading. "Why else would the carvings show her like this?"

Maui sniffed, the petulant look on his face a clear indicator that he was trying to hold himself back from arguing. He was succeeding so far. Mostly.

"Maybe they were attacking her," he offered.

It was a feeble explanation if Tamatoa had ever heard one, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Maui, man. Look at it." He jiggled the claw Maui was standing on for emphasis. "Does she _look_ like she's under attack?"

The carving of Te Fiti was smiling, serene and calm. Tamatoa was intimately familiar with the expression that human-faced creatures made when attacked by monsters. And that wasn't it.

Maui grumbled something non-committal, but Tamatoa took it as victory. "See," he crowed, "I'm—"

He never got to finish his statement.

Instead the air was split by a crackling, primal roar and the stones before them were illuminated by a flare of brilliant red-gold light.

Tamatoa's antennae sagged in resignation at their continually terrible luck.

"Aw man, what _now?_ "


End file.
